


and as the years go by, i'll think of you and sigh (day 1 - childhood)

by readbetweenthelions



Series: Bokukuro Week [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Frottage, Implied Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Implied Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi, M/M, Rimming, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-25
Updated: 2014-10-25
Packaged: 2018-02-22 14:34:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2511194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/readbetweenthelions/pseuds/readbetweenthelions
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bokuto and Kuroo are counselors at a boys' summer camp for an entire summer. They aren’t technically allowed to have counselor-counselor relationships, but, well, Kuroo’s never been much for rules.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and as the years go by, i'll think of you and sigh (day 1 - childhood)

Trees tower overhead, sunlight streaming through the leaves onto the dirt path beneath Kuroo’s feet. Somewhere there are birds chirping, almost hidden under the drone of cicadas. The heat is just short of oppressive. But Kuroo isn’t thinking about that.

He isn’t thinking about his new campers, either. There are seven of them, all around ten years old, though there are a couple aged nine and one aged eleven. It’s a small bunch, but even then, children in numbers can be hard to handle. Which is why he has Kai, of course, to be his co-counselor, and it’s Kai who’s watching them now while Kuroo takes his first real break of the summer.

Kuroo trudges up the hill towards the staff lodge. He’s been here a week already, and he’d been in good shape before, but he’s still not used to these hills. The camp is almost entirely _built_ on them, it seems like, and they are _brutal._ The staff lodge could have been in a valley, really, or almost anywhere else that _didn’t_ require him to climb a mountain just to go on his break.

But Kuroo isn’t really thinking about the hill, either. No, he’s thinking about the counselor of the other unit of campers staying in the same group of cabins as Kuroo and his campers. He’s nearly Kuroo’s height, with hair just as wild as Kuroo’s own, though perhaps in a different way, broad in shoulder and with an equally broad grin.

Kuroo reaches the crest of the hill and comes in full sight of the staff lodge. It’s a simple building, one story and with a kitchen, a lounge, a small bathroom with a small shower, and a total of three rooms (two of them offices, and another a small library of resources for counselors) inside. It’s where they all come on their breaks, where they can have a rest from their campers while their co-counselors handle them for two hours, or four, depending on the schedule.

Bokuto. If Kuroo is honest, he’s really attracted to Bokuto. During the week of training the counselors had before the camp opened and the campers arrived, Kuroo got to know Bokuto at least a little. He’s funny, if a little heavy-handed, and he’ll play along with the kind of jokes Kuroo likes to play. And _God_ , is he attractive. Kuroo has half a mind to try and schedule his campers’ time at the lake at the same time as Bokuto’s, just to catch a good look at Bokuto shirtless in his swim trunks.

Kuroo pushes open the door of the staff lodge. It smells a little musty, but then, it always does. Kuroo glances at the big dry-erase calendar on the wall. It has spaces for all the counselors to write in when they’d like to take their breaks. Some of the counselors have already done it, having already had their first breaks of the camp, or having done it before the campers even came. Kai’s schedule is among them, as is – to Kuroo’s elation – Bokuto’s.

Kuroo sidles up to the calendar and inspects the schedules carefully. Would it be a _crime_ to schedule as many of his breaks as possible at the same time as Bokuto’s? Kuroo wouldn’t mind spending some time alone with him, up here in the staff lodge, away from the campers. Kuroo uncaps the pen and writes in his schedule, two two-hour breaks and one four-hour break each week. Kuroo tries to match up as many of his breaks with Bokuto’s as he can, excluding the times that Kai’s breaks already overlap with Bokuto’s.

After he’s finished writing in his schedule, Kuroo collapses on the couch. He has his two hour break, then a meeting with the campers and then dinner and after that is the opening campfire. For now, he relaxes, and let his mind wander to thoughts of his attractive co-worker. They aren’t technically allowed to have counselor-counselor relationships, but, well, Kuroo’s never been much for rules.

***

Kuroo leads his campers in a line, paired by the good old buddy system, towards the amphitheater where opening campfire is held. The sun is nearly down, and the fire is already burning in the pit at the center of the amphitheater. Trees tower all around, obscuring the too-bright light of the sun as it sets. Kuroo guides his campers up the wide stone steps to sit on an empty row.

There are other groups of campers and counselors gathering as well. Sawamura’s group is already seated in one of the very front rows, and Oikawa’s on the same side of the amphitheater but farther back. There are other groups filing in – Moniwa’s, and then, close on their heels, Bokuto’s.

Kuroo watches Bokuto’s group of campers march up the steps and sit in the row just behind Kuroo and Kai’s. There isn’t a ton of campers in Bokuto’s group, but there are at least a couple more than in Kuroo’s, which has a grand total of seven campers and is one of the smallest groups at the camp this summer.

When it seems as if all the groups of campers with their counselors have taken a place in the amphitheater, the attention turns towards the elderly man standing in front of the fire pit. His name is Nekomata, and he’s the director of the camp – Kuroo has heard that he used to be co-directors with a man named Ukai, but the other director retired a couple of years back.

Nekomata motions for the crowd of campers to settle down, and each counselor hushes their campers in response.

“Welcome, everyone!” Nekomata says when there is relative silence.

The counselors call back a greeting, and several campers follow suit.

“We’re very glad to have you all here this summer! I hope it will be a good one!”

The counselors nod and murmur to each other, and there are some claps here and there.

“I see a lot of groups of campers out there. Each group picked a name, right?” Nekomata announces. “How about we hear them! Don’t forget to give us your motion and your call, too!”

There are cheers from some of the kids and some of the counselors. Each group of campers is required to pick a name for themselves, sort of like a team name. Kuroo and Kai had sat down with their campers just after dinner and consulted with them to name their group, and each of the counselors had done the same. It’s Sawamura who stands up first.

“We’re – ” Sawamura says, and glances at his co-counselor, Sugawara, “we’re the Crows.”

Ten little kids leap to their feet between Sawamura and Sugawara, some more vigorously than others, shouting “CA-CAWW!” at the top of their lungs and flapping their arms like wings. Nekomata claps appreciatively, and the counselors follow his lead, followed by the campers. The last of the Crows to stop cawing is a tiny redhead, but he is soon pulled back into his seat by a frowning, dark-haired boy at his side.

“Okay,” calls a light voice from higher up in the amphitheater. Kuroo looks up from the crows at this voice – Oikawa. He stands there smirking (he’s _always_ smirking) and looks over the heads of the Crows at the fire pit where Nekomata still stands. “We’re going to be the Castles!”

A line of little boys between Oikawa and his co-counselor Iwaizumi stands stock straight with their arms at their sides, like soldiers, and shout, “All hail!” before sitting back down and collapsing in fits of giggles.

“The _Castles?_ ” the noisy redhead boy from the Crows blurts. Behind him, Oikawa narrows his eyes. “Hey, isn’t that kind of lame?”

“Shouyou!” Sawamura scolds.

“It’s a little lame,” Kuroo whispers to Kai, low enough that no campers will hear. Kai punches Kuroo’s leg lightly, but smiles anyway.

 _Us next,_ Kuroo figures, and stands. “We’re going to be the Cats!” Kuroo announces. He beckons for beckons for his campers to stand as well, and they do.

“On three,” Kai mutters to the campers. “One, two… three!”

Kuroo’s campers leap up from their seats, making paws with their hands, and give a loud yowl like a cat’s. Kuroo and Kai make the motion and the sound with them, and even the shy, long-haired, and small boy at the end of the row of campers plays along. They sit back down after that, whispering to each other excitedly among the clapping of the other campers.

“Oho!” booms a voice behind Kuroo. Kuroo can’t help but smirk. He turns his head to watch Bokuto as he speaks, Bokuto’s arms folded and chest puffed out with pride. “We are the Owls!”

Bokuto’s campers stomp their feet and hoot wildly, until Akaashi – Bokuto’s co-counselor – manages to calm them down and get them back in their seats.

There’s silence for a moment as the rest of the camp rallies in the wake of the Owls’ uproar. “We’re the Bears,” Moniwa’s voice calls, quiet compared to the other counselors. About a dozen boys stand and spread their legs wide, holding their hands like claws, and growl threateningly.

There are several more introductions of groups of campers by their counselors before Nekomata welcomes everyone to the camp and talks about a few rules.

After the formalities are finished, there are songs and performances to be done. As it’s the first day of camp, the only ones who know any songs are the counselors. Groups of two or three or four of them stand in front of the fire, singing songs to the assembled camp. Some of them are exciting duets, or loud and raucous call-and-responses that the campers shout back with vigor, and others are fast-paced tongue twisters sung by a single counselor at breakneck speeds. As the night wears on, slower songs are sung; a soft solo from Akaashi and a duet from Sawamura and Sugawara round out the night.

Kuroo’s campers look a little sleepy by the time the fire in the pit is burning on coals. When they are excused from the campfire by Nekomata, they file out of the amphitheater and off to the clearing and the cabins that are their campsite and their home for the next month.

Bokuto and Akaashi’s campers live in the same campsite as Kuroo and Akaashi’s campers, and Bokuto soon catches up with Kuroo and his group as they head back. It’s a small hike back, and it is getting late, so there are few words said even between the campers as they all focus on their feet in the light of the counselors’ flashlights.

The clearing is dark when they reach it, some light from the moon streaming in through the trees. It seems familiar to Kuroo already, like home; he’s been here for a week already, after all, and the sight of the wide clearing with the huge stump in the center, ringed by four or five cabins, is one for sore eyes.

The campers crowd around the counselors as they stop just short of the stump in the center of the clearing.

“Alright, everyone, time to get ready for bed!” Kuroo shouts. “Go brush your teeth and we’ll be around in twenty minutes to make sure you’re all in bed for lights-out!”

There is a chorus of “Okay, Kuroo-san!”s and “Aw, I’m not tired!”s, but Kai shoos them all off to gather their toothbrushes and directs them towards the bathrooms. Akaashi goes with him, knowing Kai will need as much help as he can get corralling not only his campers but also Akaashi’s and Bokuto’s. After a minute, Bokuto and Kuroo are left alone in the clearing.

“The _Owls?_ ” Kuroo teases, elbowing Bokuto lightly.

“The _Cats?_ ” Bokuto fires back.

“Hey, I didn’t pick it,” Kuroo says. He holds his hands up with flat palms, rejecting the blame. “My campers did.”

“Well, neither did I!”

The two of them laugh and stroll in the direction of the counselor’s cabin, the path at their feet lit by the light of Bokuto’s flashlight.

“Hey,” Kuroo says as they draw close to the cabin. “Ah – a lot of our breaks match up, it turns out.” He carefully doesn’t mention the fact that he angled for it to be that way, and tries to play it off as random happenstance.

“Oh?” Bokuto says.

“Yeah,” Kuroo nods. “So uh. If you wanted to do something together, then… we’d have the time.”

Bokuto grins. “Yeah, that would be cool.”

“Cool,” Kuroo repeats. They smile at each other for a moment in the light of their flashlights before they snap out of it and slip into their cabin.

The cabins are simple, hardly anything at all – they are four walls and a roof, without even a door in the doorway, with bunk beds with thin mattresses lining the walls. There are only four counselors in this cabin, so not even half the bunks are filled. Each occupied bunk has a sleeping bag and a pillow spread on it, and each of their bags full of clothes and other necessities sit nearby.

Bokuto digs for a pair of sweatpants immediately, pulling clothes haphazardly out of his bag. Kuroo shakes his head at Bokuto behind his back. Not that Kuroo is the most organized – that title goes to Akaashi, who still has all his clothes folded neatly in his bag – but at least he isn’t quite as messy as Bokuto.

Kuroo doesn’t bother heading to the bathroom with the campers to brush his teeth. He spits just outside of the cabin and rinses his mouth with water from his water bottle and then heads inside to change into sweats and sit on his bunk.

It’s a while before Kai returns, and Akaashi as well. They’d been helping their campers in the bathroom, this being one of the first times the campers would be using the small, two-stall, two-sink, two-shower bathroom.

“It’s almost lights-out,” Kuroo says, glancing at his digital watch.

The other counselors nod. “Time for the good ol’ Triple H,” Bokuto says. He means ‘hug, handshake, or high five’: it’s how they say good night at this camp, asking the campers which option they’d like and saying good night to each of them in turn.

“I’ll go,” Kuroo tells Kai.

“Me too,” Bokuto says to Akaashi.

Kuroo and Bokuto leave the counselor cabin and head off to their respective campers’ cabins. Kuroo doesn’t bother with a flashlight, knowing the route well, and having pretty good night vision, all things considered.

Kuroo knocks on the wall of the cabin as he enters. The campers’ cabin is the same in design as the counselors’: four walls and several bunks, though more of them are occupied here than in the counselors’ cabin. A few of the boys have their flashlights on, reading books or chatting with each other, and each in their pajamas and sitting on their bunks in or on their sleeping bags.

“Almost ready for lights-out?” Kuroo asks. There’s a chorus of agreement from the campers. “Okay, let’s say good night, then!”

Kuroo turns to the bunk nearest to him. On it sits a skinny, light-haired kid with an eager grin, looking up at Kuroo. There’s a gap in his teeth that makes his smile childish, but endearing.

“Alright, Lev,” Kuroo asks, “Hug, handshake, or high five?”

“High five!” Lev proclaims proudly. Kuroo holds his hand up and Lev smacks it with vigor and a broad grin.

Kuroo pokes his head up to look at the bunk above Lev’s. “Morisuke! Hug, handshake, or high five?”

“Handshake,” Morisuke says maturely, looking down at Kuroo over the edge of his bunk. Kuroo reaches his hand up and takes Morisuke’s smaller hand in his own. Morisuke’s handshake is surprisingly firm for coming from such a small hand and such a small person.

Kuroo moves over to the bunk where Kenma is sitting, knees tented in his sleeping bag. “Hi, Kenma,” Kuroo says. “Hug, handshake, or high five?”

Kenma peers up at Kuroo through his long, dark hair. “H-hug,” Kenma says shyly.

Kuroo tries to keep a smile from popping up on his lips. He bends low to make sure he doesn’t hit his head on the bunk above Kenma’s, and wraps his arms around Kenma’s shoulders. Kenma hugs back tentatively for a second before Kuroo releases him.

After saying good night to the rest of his campers – a handshake from Taketora (“But you can call me Tora!” he’d said proudly when introducing himself this morning), high fives from Sou and Yuuki, and an almost whispered request for a hug from Shouhei – Kuroo tells them it’s time for lights-out and slips out of their cabin and back to his own.

“How’d it go?” Kai asks as Kuroo flops down on his own bunk.

“Good,” Kuroo says. “I think we should watch out for Kenma. He seems shy.”

“What about Shouhei?” Kai asks. “He’s hardly said a word.”

“I think he’s just quiet,” Kuroo admits. “I think he’ll be alright. He seems excited. But, just, watch Kenma for homesickness, okay?”

Kai nods.

Bokuto bursts back into the cabin a minute or so later, brandishing his flashlight as he stretches.

“Time for lights-out for us, too!” Bokuto says. “Busy day tomorrow!”

Kuroo snorts. “We know.”

Bokuto grins in his direction, flicks his flashlight off, and clambers into his own bunk above Akaashi’s. Kuroo slips into his sleeping bag and zips it up deftly. These bunks aren’t the most comfortable in the world, but after a day of looking after just over half a dozen kids, they’re much appreciated.

“Good night,” Kai says to the cabin at large.

The other counselors murmur their “good night”s and lapse into silence for the night.

***

The second day of camp has been long, though it’s not quite over yet. The morning was spent hiking, teaching the boys about the various plants they see along the trails. The education hadn’t stopped Tora from getting a palm full of nettles, of course, but there’s almost always one casualty.

Lunch was eaten in camp instead of in the dining lodge, a large building at the top of yet another hill with a kitchen staffed by four cooks and about twenty tables arranged in the main portion of the building. Two meals a day are eaten here, and the meal that isn’t varies each day – breakfast, lunch, or dinner. Today’s lunch was sandwiches, but they’re given different meals for cook-out each time, made on a set of dishes each boy was required to bring for themselves upon coming to camp.

The afternoon following lunch was spent planning what the boys want to do for the rest of camp. It’s difficult to get them all to sit down and agree on things. Three of them want to go swimming twice a week, and two of them don’t want to at all. Canoeing, arts and crafts, and a scavenger hunt all met with some amount of dissent. The only thing they could all agree on wholeheartedly was archery. Not that they weren’t going to do most of those things that had been suggested, of course. Kuroo has a mind to make his campers try everything in the camp at least once, so he made sure to list archery on the schedule twice and penciled in the rest around it.

Luckily, it’s dinner time, and the meal is nearly over. The campers have free time after dinner, so there isn’t much to do besides hang around in camp. Kuroo sits at the foot of one of the tables in the dining lodge, facing towards Kai where he sits at the head. On either side of the table, their little group of campers sit shoulder to shoulder, most of the food on their plates gone.

“Pass them down,” Kuroo says, motioning for the campers to hand him their plates. It’s the job of whichever counselor sits at the foot of the table to scrape food scraps into a bowl so that cleared plates and bowls go to the kitchen easier to wash, and the scraps go to a bin that’s eventually taken to pigs.

Kuroo scrapes plates absentmindedly with a rubber spatula, taking them one after another from Shouhei on his right. The bowl of scrapings slowly fills up, and Kuroo deposits the plates in a stack to his left. The job always seems to take forever, and Kuroo yawns as he takes yet another plate.

“That’s quite a stack of plates you’ve got, Kuroo!” calls Bokuto’s voice from nearby. He’s sitting at the head of the table next to Kuroo’s, looking oddly triumphant.

“Hmm?” Kuroo murmurs, glancing at the stack of plates.

Kuroo sits up in alarm. There’s at least eighteen plates there, and only nine people at his table. This is – of _course_.

“Bokuto!” Kuroo yells. “You _stacked_ me!”

Bokuto dissolves into hoots of laughter, slapping the table with his palm. His campers giggle, and even one or two of Kuroo’s do. Shouhei, who has been handing him plates for the past ten minutes, looks falsely innocent. Bokuto must have enlisted him to help out – it’s a prank someone always ends up pulling, passing their plates to a nearby table for the foot to scrape not only their own table’s plate, but another table’s as well. The game is to see how long you can get the other person to scrape plates before they notice. Judging by the size of the stack Kuroo has just gone through, he’s been thoroughly tricked.

“Thanks,” Kuroo says sardonically.

Kuroo stands and takes the stack of plates into the kitchen, depositing them on a cart to be taken to the big, wide sinks at the back of the kitchen to be washed. The stack is heavy; Kuroo has to admit, Bokuto got him good. He ought to have paid more attention to what he was doing. He might have noticed Shouhei taking plates from the other table, or noticed that he was scraping a dozen plates when he shouldn’t have had to. Kuroo shakes his head and chuckles to himself as he heads back to his table.

With the dishes cleared, the campers are beginning to crowd into an empty corner of the dining lodge. Each meal there are songs sung and taught in this corner after everyone has finished eating. Today it’s Moniwa’s turn to teach songs, and he stands in the corner alone and lets the campers crowd around while the counselors stand a little ways away from the crush of small bodies.

Moniwa begins to teach the campers a call-and-response song, shouting it loud over their heads. The campers shout back exuberantly, repeating his words and tune. Kuroo stands next to Bokuto, behind the campers with the rest of the counselors.

“No hard feelings about the stacking, right?” Bokuto murmurs, leaning towards Kuroo slightly to make sure he hears.

Kuroo looks over at him. Bokuto’s smile looks apologetic. Kuroo wasn’t really mad in the first place, but he wouldn’t have been able to be when looking at that face, anyway.

“No hard feelings,” Kuroo says. He holds out a hand and Bokuto shakes it eagerly, grin broadening on his face. Kuroo can feel the calluses on Bokuto’s palms, and the warmth of his hand. He almost doesn’t want to let go, but he does anyway.

“You should watch more carefully next time, though, man,” Bokuto teases as he folds his arms and turns to watch Moniwa make wild arm motions to go along with the song he’s teaching. Kuroo smacks Bokuto’s arm with the back of his hand, but beams nevertheless.

***

Sunlight sparkles on the lake, the water a murky blue-green as Kuroo peers into it. A small fish darts by, and Kuroo lifts his hand to brush away a fly. Kuroo looks up at Bokuto where he stands on the end of the dock.

“Couldn’t get enough of me in camp, eh?” Bokuto says, hands on his hips and chest puffed out proudly.

If he’s honest, no; Kuroo doesn’t get enough of Bokuto when they’re at their camp area. He doesn’t get to see Bokuto shirtless that much, surprisingly, and swimming at the lake is the perfect excuse. Bokuto’s chest is bare and shimmering with a sheen of suntan lotion under the sun of the third full day of camp and Kuroo tries not to stare.

“Of course I’ve had enough of you,” Kuroo teases.

“So mean!”

Kuroo waves a hand dismissively, though he’s grinning. Bokuto shrugs and takes a brisk walk down the dock – bending the rules about ‘no running!’ that the lifeguard, a young man named Ukai, the grandson of the former camp co-director, is very careful to enforce. Some of Kuroo’s campers are dipping their toes in the water just at the shore of the lake, and most of them are lining up behind Bokuto’s campers to dive off the end of the dock.

Most of them.

Kuroo turns and walks down the dock and back onto the shore, heading towards Kenma, who is sitting in the shade and looking out at the dock and the lake that reflects the light of the sun.

“You don’t want to swim, Kenma?” Kuroo asks.

“No, that’s alright,” Kenma says, glancing up at Kuroo. Sunlight from between the leaves of the tree whose shade he’s sitting in shines in Kenma’s eyes, and he shields them with a hand.

Kuroo tries not to frown. “Okay,” he says. “Well, if you change your mind, we’ll be waiting for you!”

Kenma nods, and after a few seconds studying his face for any sign of an opinion change, Kuroo gives up and heads back to the dock. It’s boiling out, and Kuroo is eager to hop in the lake, which is nearly always freezing.

Bokuto is beating him to it, of course. As Kuroo struts back down the dock, Bokuto takes a flying leap into the water, a perfectly-executed cannonball sending a splash of water wide in all directions, soaking the lifeguard and several of the nearest campers.

“Bokuto!” Ukai scolds as Bokuto surfaces. Bokuto shrugs and grins as he treads water.

Kuroo kicks off his sandals and stands with his toes over the edge of the dock.

“Water’s fine, Kuroo!” Bokuto calls, treading water several feet away.

Kuroo waves a dismissive hand and reaches his hands up over his head. He bends his spine, then his knees, and dives headlong into the water.

The cold of the lake is jarring, but a welcome change from the heat of the day. Kuroo turns and swims underwater towards Bokuto, reaching out a hand as he draws close and tugging on Bokuto’s ankle. He lets go as Bokuto thrashes a little bit, and surfaces.

“What was that for?” Bokuto says.

“You look like a drowned rat,” Kuroo says, motioning to Bokuto’s wet and flattened hair and ignoring his question.

“Look who’s talking!” Bokuto says, affronted. “You look like when people bathe long-haired cats. Ha! Get it! Because you’re the Cats!”

Kuroo splashes lake water in Bokuto’s face, making him splutter and spit.

Akaashi sits on the edge of the dock, kicking his feet gently in the water. When Bokuto has cleared his nasal passages of lake water, he turns his attention on his co-counselor.

“Come on in, Akaashi!” he presses.

“Pass,” Akaashi says flatly. “One of us should stay on the dock, for the campers.”

“That’s what the lifeguard’s for!” Bokuto cries. “Come on!” Without warning, Bokuto reaches out a hand and snags Akaashi’s ankle, pulling him off the dock and into the water.

Akaashi surfaces seconds later, dark hair sticking to his head. “You’re a bad role model,” Akaashi admonishes as soon as he spits water out of his mouth.

Kuroo spends alternate blocks of ten minutes swimming with Bokuto and lying out in the sun on the dock next to Akaashi (who climbed out only minutes after being pulled in by Bokuto). Their hour and a half at the lake wears away almost too quickly for Kuroo’s liking. Ukai’s whistle signals that it’s time for all of them to get out, and a dozen and a half wet campers head down the dock to their clothes on the shore.

Kuroo dries himself off, but doesn’t bother changing. His campers have an hour of scheduled free time after this, so he can just change when they get back to the cabins. Bokuto’s campers, however, have an activity planned, and many of them dart off into the trees to change, or else have their friends hold towels as curtains to hide them from peeking eyes.

“Kuroo,” Bokuto calls.

Kuroo turns around from where he has been filling his water bottle from a spigot nearby to look at Bokuto. Bokuto waves him over and Kuroo goes to him.

“I need to get out of these trunks, man,” Bokuto says. “We’ve got arts and crafts next and I can’t be sitting around in lake water all day.”

“So what do you want me to do about it?” Kuroo asks.

“Hold this,” Bokuto says, handing a towel to Kuroo.

Kuroo stares at the towel and Bokuto stares at Kuroo. Then Kuroo sighs.

“Okay,” he says.

Bokuto grins and claps him on the shoulder by way of thanks. Kuroo holds the large beach towel up like a curtain, obscuring most of Bokuto’s body from the shoulders down.

“Thanks, man,” Bokuto says. He hooks his thumbs in the waist of his wet swim trunks, and Kuroo turns his face away swiftly. Not that he’d really _mind_ an eyeful of that, but Bokuto might not appreciate it so much. All the same, Kuroo can’t help but imagining it, imagining following the line of his hips down… Kuroo shuts his eyes tight to suppress these thoughts as Bokuto pulls up his boxers.

Kuroo waits until Bokuto has pulled his shorts on before he lowers the towel. Bokuto waves to Kuroo as he darts off after Akaashi and their campers, towel slung over his bare shoulder and struggling with untangling his shirt. Kuroo watches him go for a moment, then shakes his head and turns away.

***

Kuroo suspects there is something wrong.

Kenma is a sit-in-one-place kind of kid. He doesn’t much like hiking, or swimming or boating or playing games. He seems to like arts and crafts, and Kuroo suspects it’s because he doesn’t have to move around too much. But just now, Kenma is pacing.

This is the fifth time Kenma has wandered past. He’s clearly nervous. Kuroo sits at the picnic table in their clearing and watches Kenma over a letter Kuroo is writing in his notebook. It’s the fifth day of camp, and Kuroo is starting to suspect the most common of camp ailments.

“Come here for a sec, Kenma?” Kuroo calls.

Kenma startles, but then wanders closer to where Kuroo is sitting. He always walks so carefully, like a deer that might get startled at any moment. He draws close to wear Kuroo is sitting, standing on the other side of the picnic table and looking at Kuroo sheepishly.

“Come sit by me, Kenma,” Kuroo says. “You aren’t in trouble.” He pats the wooden bench beside him and waits for Kenma to climb up beside him.

Once Kenma is settled into his seat, he studies his hands and kicks his feet. He glances quickly at Kuroo, as if hoping Kuroo won’t notice him looking, then away to his other side.

“What’s wrong, Kenma?” Kuroo asks. “Are you homesick?”

“No,” Kenma says, lower lip jutting out a little.

Well, if he’s not going to admit to it… Kuroo tries another tack. “Are the other boys mean to you?”

Kenma shakes his head. “No,” he says. He seems more certain this time, and much less defensive.

“Are you scared?”

“No.”

“Are you bored?”

“No…”

Kuroo tries not to smile. “It’s okay to be homesick, you know,” he says. “We all get a little homesick, even me.”

“I said I wasn’t homesick!”

“But you are, aren’t you?”

Kenma doesn’t say anything for a moment. He stares at Kuroo, then down at his own feet where they kick absently, dangling over the ground since he’s too short to reach from the bench. “…Maybe,” he says finally.

“Well, I’ll tell you what,” Kuroo says. “Come to my cabin and I’ll give you something to help, okay?”

Kuroo stands up and waits for Kenma to do the same. They stride off towards the counselor’s cabin, Kuroo slowing down to keep pace with Kenma. Kuroo knocks on the wall of the cabin to alert any other counselors that he’s coming in.

Bokuto is here, lying on his back with a book held over his face at the end of his extended arms. Kuroo glances at him, and Bokuto glances back. For the moment, Kuroo pretends Bokuto isn’t there. Instead, he crosses the floor of the cabin to his own bunk and pulls his bag from under it. He digs in it for a moment while Kenma watches him, hanging in the doorway.

Kuroo finally comes up with what he was looking for. It’s a small stuffed cat, a little raggedy at the edges. He brought this from home for this exact purpose. Some camper always gets homesick, and this trick works nearly every time. Kuroo holds the stuffed cat out to Kenma.

“This was my stuffed animal that I always brought to camp,” Kuroo tells him. It’s a slight fib – it had been a childhood toy of Kuroo’s, but Kuroo never took this stuffed animal to camp. Nor had he ever taken any stuffed animal to camp. But Kenma needs to believe he did in order for this to work. “He always made me feel better when I was homesick. Do you want to take him while you’re here? I think you need him a little more.”

Kenma reaches out and takes the stuffed cat gingerly from Kuroo’s hands. He feels its weight for a moment, then tucks it close to his chest.

“His name is Tom,” Kuroo says.

“Tom,” Kenma repeats, looking down at the little cat’s face.

“Do you think he’ll work for you?” Kuroo asks.

Kenma looks up at Kuroo. After a moment, he nods. Kuroo grins.

“Good,” Kuroo says.

“Thanks, Kuroo!” Kenma says. There’s a small smile on his face – Kuroo is almost certain that’s the best he’ll ever get out of Kenma, and it seems like a bigger accomplishment than climbing Mount Everest. With that, Kenma retreats from the counselors’ cabin, dashing across the clearing back to his own.

Bokuto leans down from where he’s been lying on his bunk. He’s smiling – not a malicious sort of smile, but one that is amused and a little gloating. Kuroo eyes him suspiciously.

“You’re a pretty good guy, aren’t you, Kuroo?” Bokuto says, grinning.

Kuroo falters for a moment, finding himself bizarrely devoid of comebacks. “Of – of course I’m a good guy,” Kuroo stammers. “I work with kids, don’t I?”

“You’re _cute_ ,” Bokuto says.

“I’m not cute!” Kuroo protests.

“You _are!_ ”

Kuroo’s face feels hot. He’s blushing. Kuroo doesn’t _blush_. Except, well, here he is. Blushing. So maybe he _does_.

“Well,” Kuroo says. His spine feels straight as an arrow, his only defense to not knowing what to do to stand stiffly in place. “I’m – you’re – you’re cute, too, you know.”

“Oho?” Bokuto says, raising his eyebrows.

“Yeah,” Kuroo says. Without allowing more time for him to incriminate himself, Kuroo sweeps out of the cabin and back to where his notebook with a half-finished letter that he doesn’t think he’ll be able to concentrate on now awaits.

***

Kuroo is alone for the first time in three days, since his last break. He has four hours this time, and he relishes the silence and freedom that comes from not being observed by his campers.

Not that he doesn’t miss them when he’s away from them, though. He’s attached to all of them. Morisuke, who is tiny and yet the most mature of all, and Lev, who is excited for everything and constantly chattering, and who immediately leaps to Morisuke’s side when asked to get in pairs. Sou and Yuuki are permanently at each other’s side, regardless of whether they need to be or not. Tora is obnoxious but enthusiastic, and despite his penchant for rough-housing actually gets along famously with other campers. Shouhei hardly has a word to say, but doesn’t appear shy at all – unlike Kenma, who has turned out to be Kuroo’s favorite of all, though he’s not allowed to pick favorites.

It had been a little difficult to detach Kenma from his side in order for Kuroo to take this break, but Kuroo almost hadn’t wanted to. Kenma is shy, and the problem is compounded by the fact that Kuroo and Kai only have seven campers – when the campers pair up to use the buddy system as they are instructed to do at all times, someone always ends up left out, and more often than not that results in Kuroo standing in for Kenma’s buddy.

“When will you be back, Kuroo-san?” Kenma had asked him when Kuroo had been gathering his things to leave for his break, looking up with wide eyes between the curtain of his long, dark hair.

“Only four hours,” Kuroo had responded, trying to ignore the pang around his heart.

Kuroo sighs with relief when he crests the top of the hill and comes in sight of the staff lodge. This hill really is brutal. Kuroo pushes open the door of the lodge and steps inside to the familiar, slightly musty smell of it.

Bokuto is sitting on the couch already. He turns to look at where Kuroo stands in the doorway.

“Ah, right, we have the same break,” Bokuto says. “Hey, you wanna go do something? In town, or whatever.”

There’s a small town about twenty minutes from their camp by car. There are a few restaurants, and a movie theater. The idea of restaurant-quality ramen sounds more appealing with each passing second.

“Sure,” Kuroo says. “I’ll drive.”

They leave the staff lodge before Kuroo has ever had a chance to settle in, trekking back down the other side of the hill towards the parking lot where Kuroo’s car – and many other counselors’ cars, as well – is parked for the month.

Kuroo’s car is not that impressive. It’s old, beat-up, spotted with rust and painted powder blue, and covered in dirt from sitting in the dry parking lot for two weeks now.

“ _That’s_ your car?” Bokuto says, staring at it.

“Yeah,” Kuroo says, eyeing him defensively. “So?”

Bokuto laughs. “It’s terrible. Seriously, dude, your car is super lame.”

“What did you _expect_ me to drive?” Kuroo huffs.

“I don’t know, something _cool_ ,” Bokuto says. “Like you.”

Bokuto is insulting his car, but Kuroo can’t keep himself from feeling a little flattered. Bokuto thinks he’s _cool_.

“Just get in,” Kuroo says. He unlocks the passenger side door – the automatic locks are broken, and have been for years – then circles around the front of his car to the driver’s side.

“I don’t know if I should,” Bokuto teases. “This thing might fall apart with the weight of two people in it.”

“Shut up!”

Bokuto climbs into the car anyway, the seat squeaking under him as he sits. However beat-up Kuroo’s car may look, it still _runs_ , and remarkably well. The engine always turns over on the first try, and the air conditioning even works, once you let it run for a while. Kuroo waits for the click of Bokuto’s seatbelt before he throws the car in reverse and backs out of his parking spot.

The drive is twenty minutes, mostly through forest, but at least the road is paved once they officially leave the camp’s grounds. Kuroo would normally turn the radio on, but it doesn’t get reception out in the woods, so he leaves it silent.

“What if there’s yakiniku?” Bokuto says dreamily as they zip through the trees, the sound of the road under Kuroo’s tires and the dull roar of the engine in their ears.

“I don’t have the money for that!” Kuroo says.

“Come on, we get paid for this gig,” Bokuto says. “You could spring for some meat.”

It sounds delicious, but Kuroo shakes his head to clear it of that thought. “It’s expensive,” he says.

“I’m getting yakiniku,” Bokuto insists. “You can get something _boring_ , but I’m getting something we don’t have at camp.”

“Whatever I get won’t be _boring_ ,” Kuroo says.

They reach the small town as the sun is beginning to sink low enough in the sky that its light is blinding, though it’s still a couple of hours away from setting. The town is tiny, only a small strip of businesses along a single main road. There are only a couple of restaurants – one of them a burger place, the other a ramen restaurant.

“No yakiniku, then,” Bokuto says. His shoulder sag, discouraged. “Man… it’s my _favorite_.”

“I kinda miss Tokyo,” Kuroo says.

Bokuto rubs the back of his neck with irritation. “Yeah, at least at home there’s the chance for some decent grilled meat.”

“You could get ramen with spare ribs,” Kuroo suggests.

At this, Bokuto perks up. “Oh… that’s right, I could!”

Kuroo parks in the small parking lot in front of the ramen place and they enter and find a small table near the back of the restaurant. Bokuto orders his noodles with spare ribs, and Kuroo orders his with thin-sliced pork. The restaurant is air conditioned – which is a welcome change from the inescapable heat of the outdoors. If it hadn’t been, Kuroo would have avoided eating a meal this warm.

What do they talk about, Kuroo wonders? It’s not as if there’s much in his life except campers. Watching those kids essentially 24 hours a day… well, they start to become pretty much everything to you.

“So how were your campers today?” Kuroo asks lamely as the waitress sets their bowls in front of them.

“Oh, we did a cooking competition for lunch,” Bokuto says. “One group made enchiladas in a dutch oven and I’ve never eaten anything worse in my life, but the dump cake they made for dessert was much better.”

“At least they’re learning,” Kuroo says through a mouthful of noodles and pork.

“Aki-chan – er, Akinori – is a good kid, but always teasing,” Bokuto says. “And Haruki is kind of a spaz, but really good at a bunch of different stuff. You should see the art he did the other day…”

Kuroo watches Bokuto as he talks, eyes tracking the broad hand movements and the way he throws his head back when he laughs at Kuroo’s jokes. It’s nice spending time with him away from the campers and other counselors. It almost feels like a _date_ , though Kuroo knows better than to really believe that.

When their stomachs are full of better food than they can get at camp, the two of them leave the ramen restaurant and wander back out into the cooling evening.

“…Now what?” Kuroo says. It’s strange having free time, given that they’re almost always on the move at camp – doing activities, or else planning or preparing for the next ones.

“We could see a movie?” Bokuto suggests.

Kuroo looks around at the town around him. You can effectively see all of it, so he feels confident in pointing out that there are no movie theaters in this town.

“Oh,” Bokuto says. The two of them lapse into silence, leaning against Kuroo’s car. “So… should we just go back to camp, then?”

It seems like a waste, heading back to camp after only an hour and a half when they still have two hours left. At the same time, it might be worth it to spend a little time catching up on e-mails on the (admittedly outdated) computer they provide for the counselors in the staff lodge, or maybe taking a shower in a bathroom that isn’t open to the outdoors.

“We really don’t do _anything_ besides camp, do we?” Kuroo says. “How sad.”

“Well, camp is fun,” Bokuto says. “And anyways, we got dinner. That’s something other than camping. It was really nice getting dinner with you. By the way.”

Kuroo opens his mouth to respond, but can’t think of anything clever. “Yeah,” he says. “It was. Nice.”

Bokuto grins. At least he and Kuroo have another couple of hours to hang out, just the two of them.

“Let’s just go back to the staff lodge,” Kuroo says. “A shower would be really worth it, after a good meal.”

Bokuto nods. “Wish I didn’t have to go back in this deathtrap, though,” he says. He pats his palm gently against the door of Kuroo’s car.

“Shut up! It runs fine!”

***

The sun is high in the sky and truly beating down, and though Kuroo and his campers are in the shade of the trees as they trek along the trail, it’s still brutally hot. Kenma’s face is tinged red from a sunburn he’d garnered a few days ago and has only exacerbated since, and every other word out of Tora’s mouth is a complaint about the heat.

Kuroo leads the Cats up a steep hill, with Kai at the back of the group to monitor for kids falling behind. They’re headed to archery, which had been the most enthusiastically supported activity when Kuroo and Kai had asked the campers what they wanted to do this month. Kuroo’s calves are burning with exertion, and he privately thinks that maybe the campers wouldn’t have chosen this activity if they’d known about this monstrosity of a hill.

“Ah,” Kuroo says as they walk into the bright clearing where the archery range sits. Bokuto and Akaashi are already here with their campers. To be honest, Kuroo had forgotten they were scheduled for the same time on the archery range. Bokuto’s presence, this time at least, is a surprise.

“Hi, Cats!” Bokuto calls, but he looks directly at Kuroo.

“Hi, Bokuto-san!” Lev calls. He’s friendly with everyone – just when Kuroo thinks Lev has really latched onto him, suddenly it’s all about Kai, or Bokuto, or one of the other counselors. And of course, he’s always trailing after other campers, Morisuke especially.

Kuroo and Kai sit their campers down next to Bokuto and Akaashi’s. The archery range staff explain the rules and safety measures first, then teach the campers how to fire the bows. After the lecture, the campers scramble off to pick out their bows and put on protective wrist guards, eager to try what they came here to try.

“Ah, archery!” Bokuto says as he steps up to the line they are supposed to stand behind to shoot at the targets. He takes a deep inhale, as if there’s some sort of _scent_ to archery that he’s sucking in through his nostrils. “Nothing like it, huh, Kuroo?”

Kuroo rolls his eyes as he straps a guard to his wrist. “I bet you couldn’t hit an elephant with that thing, Bokuto. Do you know what you’re doing?”

“Watch and learn,” Bokuto says. He draws the string of the bow back, takes aim quickly, and lets the arrow fly.

There’s a solid _thunk!_ as Bokuto’s arrow hits the target. Unfortunately, it’s about as far from a bulls-eye as he could have gotten – the arrow stands quivering in the outermost ring of the target.

“Nice shot,” Kuroo teases, a gloating grin spreading on his face.

“Like you can do better!” Bokuto says, rounding on Kuroo.

“Ohoho,” Kuroo chuckles, “watch me.”

Kuroo positions himself facing the target next to Bokuto’s. He lifts his bow confidently. He’s done this before, of course, and has a pretty good idea of how to do it. If it’s a competition Bokuto wants, it’s a competition he’ll get.

“You have to be more _delicate_ ,” Kuroo says, “musclehead.”

Bokuto scowls over at Kuroo as Kuroo draws back the string of the bow. He takes aim carefully, lets out a breath, and lets the arrow fly. It sinks into the target – in the second outermost ring.

Bokuto dissolves into uproarious laughter. “So much for delicate!” he hoots, pointing at Kuroo’s target.

“Shut up! It’s closer than you got!” Kuroo fumes.

With each shot, the two of them get closer and closer to their bulls-eyes. Their campers cheer them on between their own shots, and soon enough they aren’t even keeping score. The competition ends in a draw at the end of their time at the archery range, mostly because no one can remember who had more good shots than the other – though it certainly hadn’t been a high number for either of them, regardless.

“Good game,” Kuroo says, holding his hand out for Bokuto’s.

“Yeah,” Bokuto says. He takes Kuroo’s hand and shakes it firmly. “Good game.”

Kuroo smiles. Bokuto hesitates a moment, then pulls Kuroo in for a hug.

Bokuto’s arms are strong and they wrap tight around Kuroo’s shoulders. The embrace is warm, and would be more pleasant on a day that wasn’t so hot, but Kuroo enjoys it anyway. He pats Bokuto’s back with his hands, rubbing a little. They separate quicker than Kuroo would have liked, but their campers are looking on.

“Kick your ass next time, though,” Kuroo promises, under his breath where his campers won’t hear him swearing.

“Yeah, _right!_ ” Bokuto hollers.

***

There’s an old barn in the middle of a wide meadow that serves as the location for all the arts and crafts activities. In it there are cabinets and drawers full of beads and plastic string for lanyards, stacks of colored paper, plastic tubs of markers and colored pencils and crayons, scissors and glue, and everything else that could be imagined. Kuroo sits with Kai and their campers at a picnic table stained with paint and glitter and listens to Tora’s extravagant plans for his art project, and Kuroo smiles faintly at Tora’s insistence that he’s going to make the biggest candle ever made, you’ll see!

“What are you making, Kuroo-san?” Kenma asks, his voice quiet at Kuroo’s side.

Kuroo looks down at the strings in his hands, tied together at the top and taped to the table in front of him to hold them still.

“It’s a friendship bracelet,” Kuroo tells him. Kuroo has had it in his head to make one for Bokuto, because they are at the very least _friends_ , even if Kuroo maybe wants a little bit more than that. _It won’t be weird,_ he tells himself. _It’s just a friendship bracelet. Even if he laughs and thinks it’s a joke, that would be okay._

“For who?” Kenma asks.

“For a friend,” Kuroo says, carefully skirting the question. “Who else do you give friendship bracelets to?”

“What colors did you pick?” Kenma says, peering over Kuroo’s arms to look at the beginnings of the bracelet.

“Black and white and yellow,” Kuroo says. “And a little bit of red.” The first three are Bokuto’s favorites – the red is his own. It seems incredibly cheesy, this sort of symbolism, so he doesn’t explain it to Kenma.

Kenma is silent for a moment, watching Kuroo weave the colored strings together into a small bracelet. “…Will you teach me?” he asks.

Kuroo tries to hide his smile. Getting Kenma engaged can be difficult, and him _asking_ to participate feels like a victory. “Sure,” Kuroo says.

He helps Kenma pick colors of string: red and orange and bright blue. He cuts long lengths of string and knots them together at the end, then tapes them to the table. He shows Kenma how to pull one string over the other, tying small knots until the bracelet starts to form.

Kenma sits next to Kuroo as they work on their bracelets for the hour of arts and crafts time they have. Kuroo works faster than Kenma, by virtue of more dexterous fingers and a lot more experience making friendship bracelets, but Kenma has a good start. Kuroo’s bracelet is mostly done, but he grabs a couple of safety pins and pokes one through the knots of each of their bracelets.

“So we can pin them to our pants to keep the bracelets steady while we work on them,” he tells Kenma. Kenma nods and stuffs the whole assembly into his pocket to save it for later work.

Kuroo finishes his bracelet later that day, after dinner, while sitting on his bed in his cabin. He makes sure the bracelet will fit by wrapping it around his own wrist, ties the end to finish it off, and takes a deep breath. Now he just has to actually _give_ it to Bokuto, which is the most nerve-wracking part of the process by far.

The sun is setting through the trees when Kuroo pokes his head out of the cabin to search for Bokuto. He finds him easily, sitting at one of the picnic tables in the clearing and writing in his notebook. Kuroo pads up to where he’s sitting and takes a seat beside him.

“Hi, Bokuto,” Kuroo says.

“Hi, Kuroo!” Bokuto replies, setting his pen down and turning to give Kuroo his full attention. “What’s up?”

Kuroo is caught off-guard for a moment by the expression on Bokuto’s face – genuine and friendly, not at all bothered that Kuroo interrupted his letter-writing. “I, uh,” Kuroo says, “I made you something…”

“Oh yeah?” Bokuto says, perking up even more – if that were possible.

“Y-yeah,” Kuroo says. He pulls the bracelet he’d finished minutes before out of his pocket and holds it in his open palm. He can feel blood rising to his cheeks, and he looks towards a patch of nettles at the edge of the clearing for lack of anywhere less embarrassing to look.

Kuroo catches Bokuto’s expression out of the corner of his eye, though. A slow smile breaks out on Bokuto’s face. “Kuroo,” he says. “You’re – thank you.”

Kuroo knows he’s blushing, but is powerless to stop it. Bokuto holds out his wrist for Kuroo to tie the bracelet on.

Kuroo loops the bracelet around Bokuto’s right wrist, tying the ends of it together. Kuroo’s fingers brush the warm skin of Bokuto’s hand and forearm as he ties. It’s just barely loose on Bokuto’s wrist when he gets it on – Bokuto’s wrist is bigger than Kuroo’s own, which he’d been measuring the bracelet on.

Kuroo doesn’t draw his hand away immediately once the bracelet is on. He hesitates just enough that Bokuto takes his hand and holds it between his own. Kuroo can feel his heart thudding in his chest, and he glances up at Bokuto. Bokuto is still smiling, but softer than before. He seems so close… Kuroo would like to lean forward and press his lips to Bokuto’s, to kiss him, to let him know that that friendship bracelet didn’t quite mean _friendship_ but maybe something a little more.

But there are campers around. Kuroo doesn’t kiss Bokuto, and Bokuto recognizes the situation too, and drops Kuroo’s hand. Kuroo almost feels cold without the warmth of his palms. Bokuto turns back to his notebook without a word.

They sit in embarrassed silence for a few moments. Kuroo clears his throat to disrupt the quiet.

“Writing a letter?” Kuroo says, glancing at Bokuto’s notebook full of lined paper.

“Yeah,” Bokuto says, “to my mom. She likes hearing from me.”

Kuroo has written one letter to his parents in his life – his first year at summer camp. He’d never heard anything back from them, so he gave up. Bokuto is writing letters all the time, though – he must be sending his parents a letter at least every two days.

“That’s… really sweet, actually,” Kuroo says.

“Aw, c’mon,” Bokuto complains. “You make me sound like I’m some kind of mama’s boy.”

“Well, _are_ you?”

Bokuto shrugs and smiles. “Maybe a little.”

Bokuto bends over his letter again, and Kuroo watches him write for a while. The bracelet Kuroo made hangs just a little loose from his wrist, and Kuroo thinks how lucky he is to have gotten to know Bokuto this well at all. They could have been assigned to live in different campsites, and not gotten to see each other as much, or he could never have met Bokuto at all. The thought chills him a little, but watching Bokuto smile faintly while his pen scratches over the paper in front of him fills Kuroo with an almost unexplainable warmth.

Well. _Almost_ unexplainable. The simplest answer would probably be that Kuroo is falling for Bokuto, and much harder than he’d originally planned.

***

Bokuto and Akaashi took their campers on a campout tonight. They’re out in the woods with three or four tents, teaching their boys how to set the tents up and stake them to the ground, spending the night beneath the trees without the benefit of bunks and cabins.

The counselors’ cabin feels empty without Bokuto here. Kuroo rolls onto one side, then onto the other, tossing and turning on his bunk. Kuroo isn’t sure when talking to Bokuto became a bedtime routine, but it certainly seems as if it has.

Kuroo flops onto his back and sighs, staring at the bottom of Kai’s bunk above him. He misses Bokuto. It’s only been a couple of hours since the Owls left on their campout, but it feels _longer_. It feels _weird_ , trying to sleep without Bokuto nearby. Kuroo shifts uncomfortably in his sleeping bag.

“Kuroo.”

Kai’s voice jerks Kuroo out of his wallowing. “Hmm?”

“Stop moving around so much.”

“I caaaan’t,” Kuroo complains. “I can’t sleep.”

“You’re worse than the campers,” Kai says.

“It’s just _weird_ ,” Kuroo says. “Not having Bokuto in the cabin. It feels _empty_. Oh, and Akaashi, too. It feels empty without both of them.” Kuroo hopes he’s covered his tracks well enough with that addition, hopes Kai won’t notice.

There’s silence for a moment, then Kai speaks. “Hey, Kuroo.”

“Hmm?”

“Do you like Bokuto?”

“Of – of course I like Bokuto,” Kuroo says defensively. “What’s not to like?”

“Kuroo, you know what I mean. Do you _like_ him?”

“I – I – ” Kuroo stammers, “I – I _do_.”

It feels strange, to say it out loud. He hasn’t said a word to anyone about this. Not to Kai, because the campers are almost always around, and not to Bokuto – _definitely_ not to Bokuto.

“I do like him,” Kuroo continues. “I’m really, _really_ fucking into him. I can’t stop thinking about him. I miss him, even though he’s just gone for one night. Kai. I’m so _fucked_.”

“Yeah, sounds like it,” Kai replies. “…Have you told him?”

“Of course I haven’t told him!”

“Well, why not? Maybe he feels the same.”

Kuroo thinks about Bokuto holding his hand after he’d given Bokuto the friendship bracelet a couple of days ago. He thinks about getting dinner with Bokuto in town, and hugging Bokuto after archery, and Bokuto calling him _cute_. Bokuto probably _does_ feel the same. But that doesn’t make a confession any less nerve wracking.

“Because it’s _hard_ ,” Kuroo says. “There’s always campers around, and when there’s not campers there’s other people, and when we’re alone I _still_ don’t have the courage. Kai! I’m _so_ fucked.”

“You just need to tell him, dude.”

“But what if he says yes?” Kuroo frets. “We’re not supposed to have relationships with other counselors. What if…?”

“Well, Sawamura is banging his co,” Kai says reasonably. “And Oikawa and Iwaizumi seem unreasonably close. I mean, as long as campers don’t find out…”

“Ugh,” Kuroo groans. “You’re _right_. I just have to tell him.”

“Good choice. Can we go to bed now?”

“Yeah.”

Kuroo settles onto his side to get to sleep, but still can’t stop thinking about Bokuto. How should he do it, though? When does he get a free moment alone with Bokuto? Their next break together isn’t for three whole days, and Kuroo doesn’t think he can wait that long. Does he just say it – “Bokuto, I like you”? What if Bokuto tells him he’s not into guys, tells him to fuck off? Kuroo’s tossing and turning is practically thrashing.

Kai’s voice in the darkness a minute or two later is heavy with annoyance. “Kuroo.”

“I can’t sleep! Planning a confession is stressful!”

“Go to sleep.”

***

Bokuto and Akaashi return the next day, about an hour before lunch. They carry their sleeping bags in their arms, trudging back from what might have been a rougher night of sleep than they’re used to, considering they slept on the ground.

Kuroo’s campers are mostly hanging out in their cabin, but Lev and Sou and Yuuki are playing some game near the stump at the center of the clearing. They’ll be fine for a second, if Kuroo takes Bokuto somewhere out of sight for a minute, won’t they?

Kuroo sidles up to Bokuto as he reaches the picnic tables. Akaashi heads for the counselors’ cabin to set down his things, and Bokuto’s campers continue to their own cabins, eager to put down their sleeping bags and pillows and backpacks.

“Bokuto, can I talk to you for a second?” Kuroo asks.

Bokuto sets down his sleeping bag and the packed tent slung over his shoulder. “Sure,” he says.

Bokuto follows Kuroo. Kuroo leads him behind the counselors’ cabin – it’s a place where they won’t be disturbed, not by campers and not by Akaashi or Kai, should they walk in. Kuroo’s heart pounds in his chest. It’s not like he hasn’t done this before. He’s confessed to people, in the past, and had people confess to him. But there’s something about Bokuto that makes Kuroo feel like he’s a kid with his first crush all over again.

“What’s up?” Bokuto asks, avoiding a patch of nettles as he turns to study Kuroo’s face for some sign of bad news. Kuroo hopes his facial expression isn’t too grave – he feels a little sick with nervousness, and he prays that it isn’t showing.

“Look, I – I missed you,” Kuroo says. “Last night. The cabin felt… empty, without you.”

“That’s…” Bokuto says. “You really are kind of a dork, aren’t you? You act cool, but you’re really cute.” There’s laughter in Bokuto’s voice, and Kuroo panics a little that his message isn’t really being received.

“I’m serious,” Kuroo says. “This isn’t about how cool I am, or pretend to be, or whatever. It’s about how I _feel_.”

“So you admit you pretend you’re cool?” Bokuto says, grinning.

“Bokuto,” Kuroo says flatly.

The grin drops slowly from Bokuto’s face when he recognizes the desperate look on Kuroo’s. Bokuto is quiet for a moment. He is suddenly serious, watching Kuroo’s face intently. “…How do you feel, then?” Bokuto asks.

Kuroo takes a deep breath to steady himself. “I like you, Bokuto. I really, really like you.”

Something in Bokuto’s expression softens. He reaches out a hand and grabs Kuroo’s, squeezing gently. Kuroo curls his fingers around Bokuto’s hand, gripping back, half out of instinct and half out of hope that Bokuto is about to say something, anything, that will tell Kuroo that Bokuto likes him back.

“Kuroo, I really like you, too,” Bokuto says, a smile growing on his lips.

“Oh, thank God,” Kuroo breathes, relief flooding him. “I was _hoping_ …”

“Jeez, I was wondering when you were going to respond to all my flirting,” Bokuto says. “You’re a dork _and_ you can’t take a hint!”

“Look who’s talking!” Kuroo snaps. “You didn’t respond to _my_ flirting, either! I’m the one that confessed.”

Bokuto laughs. Kuroo can hardly stay annoyed looking at that smile. He grins back, knowing his expression is goofy and not at all cool, but he can’t bring himself to care. So what if Bokuto knows he’s a huge dork? Bokuto knows that already, and he still told Kuroo that he _likes_ him. The two of them stand there in the underbrush behind the counselors’ cabin, smiling at each other, sunlight filtering through the trees above and dappling green and gold on their faces.

It takes a minute to snap out of the spell, and for Kuroo to realize his hand is still in Bokuto’s.

“We should – there’s campers,” Bokuto reminds Kuroo.

“Yeah,” Kuroo says. “We should… go back.”

All the same, it takes a little while for them to let go of each other’s hands and come out from behind the cabin.

***

Kuroo stares at the lined paper of the spiral notebook he’d brought to camp, trying to compose a letter. At the top he’s written “Mom & Dad – ” but that’s as far as he’s gotten. He’s never written a letter to his parents, but with only a week and a half left of summer (and camp) he figures he ought to have enough things to write about to make a letter worthwhile. After all, Bokuto writes to his parents every other day and _still_ finds things to talk about. This shouldn’t be so hard. Right?

“Kuroo-san! Kuroo-san!” a small but loud voice calls. Kuroo looks up from the letter he’s writing-but-not-really to see Lev rushing towards him.

“What’s going on, Lev?” Kuroo asks, setting his pen down.

“I heard rustling in the bushes when I was out playing in the woods!” Lev cries. “What if it’s a bear!”

Kuroo looks at Bokuto, who is sitting on a bench nearby and scanning his schedule, to confirm that there are no bears around here. Bokuto shrugs almost imperceptibly. Kuroo takes that to mean _no bears_ , but Kuroo is going to have to check anyway, to set Lev’s overactive imagination at ease. Kuroo turns his gaze back to Lev.

“Alright, me and Bokuto-san will check it out,” he tells him. “You stay here.”

Lev gives a vigorous nod. Kuroo waits for Bokuto to stand and reach his side, then they set off into the forest in the direction Lev came from.

There’s a thin path that leads from the ring of cabins and into the surrounding woods, and they follow it until they’re a few minutes into the forest, far enough that it’s quiet except for the sound of cicadas and a lone bird. This area of the forest has a small clearing, maybe ten feet in diameter at the most, and the long grass that covers the ground is dotted with small wildflowers.

Bokuto and Kuroo glance around for any signs of a bear, though their examination is cursory – there almost certainly never was anything, really, maybe a raccoon at most, but the act of them looking will be enough to appease Lev.

“No bears,” Bokuto says.

“No bears,” Kuroo confirms.

There’s silence for a minute and Kuroo lets it sink in. The shade of the trees feels welcomingly cool, and there isn’t even a hint of laughing, screeching children, like there is almost everywhere else around here.

Bokuto is looking at Kuroo, studying his face. Honestly, it makes Kuroo a little nervous. “Best to use the buddy system when checking for bears,” Kuroo jokes, trying to alleviate some of the pressure.

“Right,” Bokuto says. He’s standing pretty close, isn’t he?

“…Bokuto?” Kuroo says.

“Hm?” Bokuto’s eyes flick up from where they are watching Kuroo’s lips when he hears his name.

Kuroo is painfully aware of the way his heart is pounding in his chest, and it’s not due to any fear of Lev’s imaginary bear. They’re the only two people around, Kuroo tells himself. They’ll hear anyone else coming. It’s just him and Bokuto, alone, with no campers and no other counselors and Bokuto looks rugged and keeps watching Kuroo’s mouth and…

Fuck it.

Kuroo surges forward and pulls Bokuto’s face towards his own with his hands on Bokuto’s jaw. Their lips meet, firm against each other’s. Bokuto’s lips are a little chapped, but Kuroo doesn’t mind. Bokuto’s hands hold Kuroo’s waist, pulling his body close, disregarding the heat of the day around them that being pressed to one another like this will only aggravate.

Kuroo parts his lips and lets his tongue lick at Bokuto’s bottom lip. Bokuto lets his tongue twine with Kuroo’s, slipping carefully against Kuroo’s at first and then gaining confidence and passion. Kuroo drops his hands to Bokuto’s shoulders, pulling him closer still.

Kuroo has to pull away for air after a minute or two. He leans back a couple inches, and takes a few deep inhales before pressing another swift kiss to Bokuto’s lips, followed by another longer, deeper kiss. It feels good, it feels _right_ , kissing Bokuto. Kuroo feels like he’s been waiting for it for a long time, for his whole _life_ maybe, though it’s only been a little over three weeks since he met Bokuto in the first place. Bokuto’s fingers grip a little tighter where he holds Kuroo’s waist, and Kuroo hopes he’s thinking something along the same lines.

When Kuroo and Bokuto pull away from each other after another minute, they’re both panting a little bit. Kuroo lets his hands slide down from Bokuto’s shoulders to rest his palms flat on Bokuto’s chest.

“We – can’t stay here,” Kuroo says. “Lev will…”

“Yeah,” Bokuto says. “We should… go back.”

Kuroo looks Bokuto in the eye. “That was – ” he says, “that was _good_.”

“Kissing?” Bokuto says. “Yeah, it was. I like kissing you.”

Kuroo can feel something halfway between relief and amusement welling up in his chest. “We should do this again.”

Bokuto smiles. “Yeah. We should.”

They hang there for a moment, knowing they need to move away, but not wanting to. Kuroo swallows, then takes a step back, slipping gently out of Bokuto’s grip on his waist.

“Come on,” Kuroo says. “We have to tell Lev there aren’t any bears.”

Bokuto nods. Kuroo leads the way back to the cabins, Bokuto on his heels. Kuroo wants to reach back and take Bokuto’s hand, to interlace his fingers with Bokuto’s and touch him and feel the warm presence of his palm, but he doesn’t. Soon there will be campers around who could see.

Lev is waiting for them with a nervous expression when they reach the cabins again.

“No bears, Lev,” Kuroo says. “It could have been a raccoon or something, though, don’t you think?”

Lev considers for a moment, then nods. “You’re right! It was probably just a silly little raccoon!” he says. He puffs out his chest bravely. “I’m not afraid of any stupid raccoons!”

“Of course you aren’t,” Kuroo says.

Lev runs off with a grin, and Kuroo watches him for a moment before turning back to look at Bokuto.

“We should check for bears more often,” Bokuto says.

“Yes,” Kuroo says, grinning at the implication. “We should.”

For the rest of the afternoon, and evening, and even when Kuroo’s head is laid down on his pillow that night, he cannot get the memory of Bokuto’s lips on his out of his mind. He wants to kiss Bokuto again, and who knows when he’ll get the chance – but Bokuto wants to kiss him again too, and that’s almost enough.

***

Bokuto and Kuroo have found time to kiss nearly every day this week. Oftentimes it entails sneaking off into the woods at night when the campers have already gone to sleep, sitting on the log benches around the fire pit just within the tree line or standing in the forest, making out for as long as they think they can get away with. They have to be up early every morning, so they can make sure their campers are awake, so they can’t stay out too late – though they would be more than glad to.

They find moments to sneak kisses during the day, too – when they’re alone in the cabin together, when they end up in secluded places like the boathouse alone together… but they’ve lacked the time to really, _really_ enjoy the kissing.

Until now. Today is their shared break, and no one else is in the staff lodge. Kuroo lies flat on his back on the couch, with Bokuto on top of him. Bokuto’s lips make soft smooching noises against Kuroo’s own as they kiss, Bokuto’s hands exploring Kuroo’s body and Kuroo clinging to Bokuto’s hips.

Bokuto trails a line of kisses along Kuroo’s jaw. Kuroo tips his head up to expose more of his neck, and Bokuto kisses it eagerly. He sucks at Kuroo’s skin, teeth biting lightly now and then.

“No marks,” Kuroo reminds him, touching his face gently. “The kids will ask questions.”

“Right,” Bokuto says. This time when he bends his face to Kuroo’s neck, he mouths gently and runs a firm tongue across Kuroo’s skin, but no more.

Kuroo moans low in his throat. This is more than they’ve ever done, and Kuroo wants more still. He can feel himself growing hard, a combination of stimulation and anticipation welling low in his hips and making him press as close to Bokuto as possible.

Kuroo would blush at the embarrassment of his growing erection, but luckily it seems like Bokuto is on the same page as Kuroo. Bokuto grinds his hips against Kuroo’s, cock hard in his jeans. Kuroo groans, reveling in the sensation even through layers of fabric.

“Hey, Koutarou,” Kuroo murmurs, voice low in Bokuto’s ear. “That… feels good…”

“Yeah…” Bokuto mutters back. He pushes his hips up again, the length of him rubbing against Kuroo.

They kiss and grind hard against each other, paying little heed to anything but this. Kuroo feels the warmth of arousal spread through his body. He clings tightly to Bokuto, his fingers tangled in Bokuto’s shirt for support.

Kuroo is fully hard, and with every thrust of his hips against Bokuto’s he finds it a little harder to do much besides pant and moan and grind a little faster. Bokuto takes short breaks from kissing Kuroo to lick and scrape his teeth gently at Kuroo’s neck. The movement of their hips begins to grow erratic, and Kuroo can feel himself reaching his climax before long.

“Ah – ahh, K – _Tetsurou_ , I’m gonna…” Bokuto breathes.

Kuroo comes first, with a low, sighing groan. He feels the warm fluid spurt out, cum sticking to his skin and boxers. He tries desperately to catch his breath, though it proves harder with the little aftershocks of his orgasm still rocking him now and then.

“Fuck,” Bokuto mutters as he comes. Kuroo can feel the twitching of his cock even through the layers of fabric that separate them. Kuroo kisses him, rough but satisfied.

After a minute to catch their breath, Kuroo scoots over on the couch a little to let Bokuto lie next to him. They lie there for a while, Kuroo’s arm around Bokuto’s shoulders and Bokuto’s arm across Kuroo’s waist, just enjoying the closeness.

“This is… kinda gross,” Kuroo says after a while.

“…A little bit, yeah,” Bokuto agrees. “There’s cum in my boxers.”

“Me too.”

Bokuto gives a short laugh, and so does Kuroo. The feeling of cum sticking his boxers to his skin is unpleasant, but the post-orgasm heaviness of his limbs and his desire to stay close to Bokuto like this prevent him from getting up and doing anything about it.

“Next time – ” Kuroo says, “next time, we should do stuff like this when our laundry isn’t already in the washer.”

“Next time,” Bokuto repeats.

Kuroo turns his head to look down at Bokuto, whose face is resting on Kuroo’s shoulder. “It’s a pity we’re not on our four,” he says. “Or I’d take you out to dinner again. I’d pay.”

“I think you’re supposed to buy people dinner _before_ you hook up with them,” Bokuto reminds him.

“You think we hooked up? Would you call this hooking up?”

“There was a mutual getting-off. I’d call that a hookup.”

Kuroo grins. “Okay. Good.”

Bokuto kisses Kuroo again, gentle and sweet, without the urgency of earlier. Kuroo wishes they could spend more time like this, spend whole afternoons and whole days just lying here and kissing and fooling around, but he knows that isn’t feasible. It doesn’t stop him from wanting it.

***

“Koutarou,” Kuroo says, voice thick with drowsiness, “you have to get up.” Kuroo is drifting off to sleep, and while he’d _like_ to stay just like this, he knows they can’t.

“Mmn,” Bokuto grunts, his nose pressed to Kuroo’s neck.

“No, really,” Kuroo says. “You have to get up.”

“I don’t wanna,” Bokuto says.

They’re lying on Bokuto’s bunk, as they have been since the campers went to sleep for the night. This is the only time during the day they have to spend together like this. Bokuto is warm against Kuroo, a welcome insulation from the chill of nighttime. Bokuto’s legs tangle tightly with Kuroo’s, one hand in the small of Kuroo’s back and the other arm around Kuroo’s neck. Kuroo clings to Bokuto’s hips, his palms resting on bare skin where he has Bokuto’s shirt pushed up just a little.

“We have to,” Kuroo says. His voice is a low whisper. Kai and Akaashi are on their own bunks, curled in their own sleeping bags and trying, no doubt, to get to sleep. They have been saints about all this. They let Bokuto and Kuroo cuddle even when they’re around and there has been minimal teasing.

Kuroo doesn’t want to let go of Bokuto, doesn’t want to let Bokuto to slink back to his own bunk and pout, doesn’t want to sleep alone. But they have to. Not only does the camp have a policy against relationships between counselors, it also has one against two people sharing a bed. Though they’re disrespecting the former, the latter is one they actually do have to observe – in case a camper comes in with a problem in the middle of the night and discovers them snuggled together in the same sleeping bag.

“I know,” Bokuto sighs. “But I don’t _wanna_.”

Kuroo leans slightly forward and presses a kiss to Bokuto’s lips. It’s soft and quick, but sweet nonetheless. Afterwards, Kuroo lays his head down on his pillow again, neck bending over Bokuto’s arm where it rests.

“Alright,” Bokuto says. “I have to get up.”

“Yeah,” Kuroo says.

Neither of them move.

For another couple of minutes, they lie there, awake but only barely. Kuroo dreads the feeling of emptiness that is going to come when Bokuto eventually does get up and go to his bed on the other side of the cabin. They have to, Kuroo tells himself, they have to.

“Hey,” Kuroo says, smiling though Bokuto won’t see it in the darkness. “Hug, handshake, or high five?”

“Hug,” Bokuto answers immediately. He tightens his grip on Kuroo, hugging him close. Kuroo hugs back, desperately wishing the moment could go on for a lot longer, squeezing Bokuto tight.

“Good night,” Kuroo says as they release each other.

“Good night,” Bokuto murmurs back. It takes him a few seconds, but he drags himself out of Kuroo’s arms eventually.

Bokuto’s footsteps are soft on the wood floor of the cabin, and his bunk groans when he flops down onto it. Kuroo hears the rustling of his sleeping bag as he climbs into it, then silence as he settles down.

The distance feels oppressive, though it’s only a few feet.

“Good night, Tetsurou,” Bokuto says, just loud enough to be heard across the cabin.

“Good night, Koutarou,” Kuroo responds.

“I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Yeah. I’ll see you in the morning. I miss you already.”

There’s a small silence, and before Bokuto can reply, he’s interrupted.

“Jesus, you two are repulsive,” Akaashi mutters. There’s an indignant noise from Bokuto, but Kuroo just smiles into his pillow.

***

Kuroo hasn’t been able to get thoughts of sex with Bokuto out of his head for days, not since they got off together. And earlier, if he’s honest. Bokuto is hot. It would be a lie to say he hadn’t thought about it even before they got together.

He wants to _do it_. He wants to have sex with Bokuto, and not just dry humping in the staff lodge. Actual, real sex.

There are challenges, though. They already can’t find the time to just _kiss_ , let alone to actually have sex. Kuroo tries to imagine having sex in the woods, and none of the scenarios he comes up with are sexy in the least. And there’s no way they could use the cabin – Akaashi and Kai would never let them have it, and would never let them hear the end of it for even trying.

Kuroo descends alone from the hilltop where the dining hall sits. He’d been turning in meal request forms for their cookout meals for the week – the last week, Kuroo remembers with a pang in his heart. Someone is headed up the hill towards him, and Kuroo squints to determine who it is.

Ah. Sawamura. Actually… Kai had said something about Sawamura and Sugawara hooking up. Maybe he’ll have some ideas. Kuroo slows down as Sawamura approaches him.

“Hey, Kuroo,” Sawamura says, glancing up at Kuroo from the forms he’s holding in one hand.

Kuroo puts out a hand and stops Sawamura in his tracks.

“Sawamura,” Kuroo says. “Are you hooking up with your co?”

Sawamura freezes in alarm. “Er, what would – give you that idea – ” he says, eyes shifting to look anywhere but at Kuroo.

“Look, I’m not gonna turn you in or something,” Kuroo says. “Do I look like the kind of guy that would turn you in for something like that? No. So, how do you do it?”

Sawamura eyes Kuroo suspiciously. “That’s kind of _personal_ ,” he says. “But… I mean, first you have to get him opened up a little, and then – ”

“Moron, I know how to have sex with guys,” Kuroo spits. “I mean where do you find the _time?_ Away from your campers and everything? It’s not like you can do it in the staff lodge or something, since you can’t take breaks at the same time, right?”

“Um. We do it in the shower a lot. So there aren’t campers around,” Sawamura explains. “And when Moniwa and them went on their campout last week we were able to use the cabin – ”

“Hmm,” Kuroo says, more to himself than to Sawamura.

“Why? You’re not wanting to hook up with Kai, are you?” Sawamura asks.

“God, no, not _Kai_ ,” Kuroo says. He takes a moment to laugh to himself about the absurdity of that thought. “Anyway, good talk, Sawamura.” Kuroo claps him on the shoulder as he walks past him, deep in thought about fucking Bokuto in the showers sometime very soon.

***

Kuroo glances around the clearing, making certain there’s no one around. The campers should be asleep by now, and they are at the very least lying on their bunks with all their flashlights and lanterns off. Kai and Akaashi are in the cabin already, settling in for the night. The clearing is dark but for the moonlight overhead and the circle of light on the ground from Kuroo’s flashlight.

“Do you want to shower with me?” Kuroo asks, voice low.

Even in the dark, Kuroo sees Bokuto perk up.

“ _Yeah_ ,” he says. “ _Hell_ yeah.”

They walk quickly to the cabin and gather the things they need for a shower, shampoo and soap and towels, trying to find their toiletries quickly and yet remain quiet enough to not disturb Kai and Akaashi, who are both trying to sleep.

“Could you be louder, please?” Akaashi snaps when Bokuto drops his bottle of shampoo on the cabin floor by accident.

“Sorry,” Bokuto says, and grimaces at Kuroo in the dark.

Kuroo and Bokuto walk quickly to the little bathroom in the meadow near their campsite. Kuroo is certain Bokuto understands what Kuroo is intending to do when they shower together. He’d agreed enthusiastically, he must know at least _something_ of Kuroo’s intentions.

Not that they haven’t made their intentions pretty clear before this. All the nights where they trekked out into the dark woods to kiss for a while where they wouldn’t be observed, stolen kisses in the cabin and the boathouse and the bathroom when no one else was around, grinding against each other in the staff lodge and promising each other more, next time, when they can manage it, _if_ they can manage it… it’s all been building, and Kuroo is desperate for the release of it.

The bathroom is small and rudimentary. It doesn’t need to be fancy, considering anything is better than nothing out in the woods. Two stalls and two sinks, and a door to a smaller room with two lone shower stalls. Not that they’ll need both tonight, of course.

Kuroo closes the door of the shower room behind him and Bokuto. They each carry their small baskets of toiletries into one of the shower stalls, and hang their towels on hooks by the door.

“So, a shower, then,” Bokuto says.

“I thought it would be a good idea,” Kuroo says, “considering how _dirty_ we get.”

There’s a silence for a moment, then Bokuto laughs.

“That was lame,” he says. “That was the worst pun ever.”

“Oh, come on, what about that thing you said about the duck two days ago?” Kuroo snaps.

“Well, at least _I_ wasn’t trying to be sexy.”

“Shut up and take your shirt off.”

Bokuto grins, and shrugs, and does as he’s told. He strips his shirt off and leaves it in a pile on the bench that sits along one wall of the shower room.

Kuroo stares. He knows he’s staring, but he does it anyway. He _knows_ Bokuto is muscular, has felt his abs and biceps and pecs under his shirt, but it’s different looking at them bare like this. Bokuto’s shoulders are broad and the V-shaped line of his hips draws Kuroo’s eyes downward. There’s a little hair on his chest, and a nice line of it running from his navel down to his jeans, which he is still unfairly wearing.

Bokuto looks up at Kuroo watching him and grins. “Your turn,” he says.

Kuroo scrambles to pull his shirt off over his head, and then drops it on the bench with Bokuto’s. He shivers a little now that he’s shirtless in the cool air of nighttime. When he looks up, Bokuto is staring, just as he had been himself a minute before.

“You’re hot,” Bokuto says.

“I was gonna say the same to you,” Kuroo says, smirking.

“Come here.”

Bokuto and Kuroo step towards each other, meeting in the middle. They kiss eagerly, the warm, bare skin of their chests pressing against one another’s. The soft smooching sound of their mouths against each other’s echoes in the tiny bathroom, and Kuroo resists the urge to laugh. He hooks his fingers in the belt loops of Bokuto’s jeans and pulls him closer.

One of Bokuto’s hands strokes the plane of Kuroo’s shoulder, then the curve of his spine from the nape of his neck to just between his shoulder blades. His other holds Kuroo to him at the small of Kuroo’s back. Kuroo lets his fingers play at the skin just above the waistband of Bokuto’s jeans. Bokuto lets go of Kuroo and reaches between them to undo the button of his pants, then pull them down a little.

Kuroo leans back to pull away from the kiss. “All the way off,” he insists.

Bokuto smiles and presses another quick kiss to Kuroo’s lips, then bends to pull his jeans and boxers down around his ankles and step out of them. He deposits them on the pile of clothes on the bench, then turns back to face Kuroo.

Kuroo scans Bokuto’s body, from chest down to his groin. Kuroo’s breath catches a little in his throat when his eyes rest on Bokuto’s dick. It’s… _big_. Kuroo can tell already, though Bokuto isn’t anywhere near hard yet.

Bokuto takes Kuroo by the wrist and pulls him close again, kissing him with the full length of his now-naked body pressed against Kuroo’s. Kuroo lets his hands sit on Bokuto’s bare skin low on Bokuto’s hips.

After a minute, Bokuto breaks away from the kiss, moving his mouth to kiss along Kuroo’s jaw instead. “Tetsurou,” Bokuto breathes, lips close to the shell of Kuroo’s ear.

Kuroo feels a prickling warmth in his spine at the sound of his own name. Bokuto’s hands slip down to cup Kuroo’s ass, and Kuroo’s back arches instinctively, pressing his chest closer to Bokuto’s and his ass closer to Bokuto’s hands.

“Take these off,” Bokuto says, tugging a little with his thumbs in Kuroo’s back pockets.

Kuroo steps back, gently breaking out of Bokuto’s light hold. He turns his back to Bokuto as he undoes the button of his pants. He slowly slides his jeans and boxers down over the curve of his ass to his knees, swaying his hips as he does so.

“Ah,” Bokuto says.

Kuroo grins while Bokuto can’t see. He bends over to push his jeans down to his ankles, and also to flaunt his ass. He steps out of his pants and boxers and deposits them with the rest of his clothes before turning back around to face Bokuto.

Bokuto’s line of sight at Kuroo’s crotch is not subtle, but subtlety is not one of the qualities Kuroo likes Bokuto for. Bokuto looks for a long moment before looking back up at Kuroo’s face.

“Not bad,” Bokuto says.

“’ _Not bad’?_ ” Kuroo says, frowning.

“Smaller than mine, even though you’re taller,” Bokuto teases, a grin on his face.

“We’re not here to compare dicks, dude.”

“I know. We’re here to _have sex_.”

The frankness of the statement sends a shiver of excitement down Kuroo’s spine. “Yeah we are,” he says. “We definitely are.”

Kuroo steps to the shower stall and turns the shower on, then reaches out his hand for Bokuto. Bokuto takes his hand and they step into the shower, Bokuto tugging the curtain closed behind them as they go. Water spills over both of their heads and runs down their bodies, and they stand close to each other, face to face, in the small shower.

“Hi,” Kuroo says.

“Hi,” Bokuto replies.

Kuroo leans forward and kisses Bokuto, full and open-mouthed. Their tongues slip against each other’s and so do their hands, water making their skin slick, the warmth of water and each other welcome on their naked bodies.

Bokuto pulls back a little away from the kiss, and gives what he can see of Kuroo from this short distance a long, examining look.

“You look so different with your hair all flat,” Bokuto says.

“Yeah, well, so do you,” Kuroo replies.

“You’re _shorter_.”

“I’m still taller than you!”

Bokuto waves a hand and kisses Kuroo again. His hands hold Kuroo’s hips against his own, and Kuroo makes a point to grind hard against him.

Bokuto kisses Kuroo again, smiling against Kuroo’s lips. Kuroo runs his fingers through Bokuto’s wet hair, eventually letting his hands come to rest on the curve of Bokuto’s neck, his thumbs tracing Bokuto’s jawline. As they kiss, Bokuto reaches around behind Kuroo and slips his fingers between the cheeks of Kuroo’s ass.

Kuroo stiffens. “Hey – ah – _ahh…_ ”

Kuroo’s voice melts to a sigh of pleasure, Bokuto’s fingers stretching him as they gently push in. Kuroo bites his lip and lets Bokuto kiss him at the corner of his mouth, on the cheek, along his jawline. Bokuto kisses Kuroo’s neck, gently sucking water from Kuroo’s skin as he goes.

“You think you’re gonna top, huh?” Kuroo says.

“I _know_ I’m gonna top,” Bokuto replies.

Kuroo doesn’t mind. He backs his hips up against Bokuto’s hand, pushing his fingers a little deeper. He can feel himself growing hard, can feel Bokuto’s erection growing against him.

“Does it feel good?” Bokuto asks.

“Yeah,” Kuroo says. “Of course it does.”

Bokuto pushes his face to Kuroo’s neck and grins. Kuroo gives a soft kiss to Bokuto’s temple, and Bokuto’s fingers push a little deeper in.

“Mm!” Kuroo exclaims. “Yeah, right there…”

Bokuto crooks his fingers to rub at Kuroo’s prostate again. Kuroo’s knees suddenly feel week, and he clings to Bokuto, his arms around Bokuto’s neck to support his weight.

Bokuto fingers him for a while, until the two of them are hard and Kuroo is gasping and panting. Bokuto’s cock rubs against Kuroo’s stomach, and Kuroo rests his forehead on Bokuto’s shoulder and looks down at their cocks between them. Bokuto’s _is_ a bit longer, and has a bit more girth, but any way Kuroo looks at it that seems to be good news.

“Hey, turn around,” Bokuto says, bringing Kuroo out of his train of thought.

Kuroo hesitates for only a moment before he nods. Bokuto draws his fingers out of Kuroo and lets Kuroo turn to face the wall of the shower. Dutifully, Kuroo presses his palms to the wall just about at the level of his face, and spreads his legs.

“You look so good,” Bokuto says. One of his hands strokes Kuroo’s back from shoulder blade to just above his ass, then stabilizes himself leaning on his hand on Kuroo’s back as he squats.

“Hey…” Kuroo says. “Are you – ”

Bokuto’s fingers spread the cheeks of Kuroo’s ass and his tongue slips between before Kuroo can finish his sentence. Kuroo gasps at the feeling. It’s a little strange – honestly, Kuroo has never been rimmed before, though this is hardly his first time with a man – but he finds himself enjoying it.

“Koutarou…” Kuroo moans.

Bokuto gives a small, muffled response. He circles his tongue slowly around Kuroo’s hole, then pushes it inside for just a moment. It’s enough to make Kuroo cry out, then let his head hang and give a low, pleasured groan.

Kuroo wants more. He lets his back arch and his ass push closer to Bokuto’s face. He holds his own cock at the base, now and then giving a couple of strokes, but mostly just letting himself feel the sensation of Bokuto’s tongue.

“More,” Kuroo breathes. “More, more…”

In response to Kuroo’s begging, Bokuto pushes two fingers into Kuroo beside his tongue. He draws them in and out slowly at first, then gaining speed, his tongue still playing around his fingers. Kuroo gives a moan that sharpens to a gasp as Bokuto’s fingers brush his prostate yet again.

“You like that?” Bokuto murmurs, taking his mouth away for a moment.

“Yeah,” Kuroo says. “ _Fuck_ yeah.”

Kuroo tries to keep himself from moaning too loudly, just in case someone comes into the bathroom, but he doesn’t quite manage it. Bokuto’s tongue feels good and his fingers feel _fantastic_ , pushing deep in and getting at his most sensitive spots. Kuroo feels himself relax around Bokuto’s fingers as Bokuto continues to work him open.

“Are you ready for me to fuck you?” Bokuto asks after a bit.

“As I’ll ever be,” Kuroo says. There’s a short silence, so Kuroo continues, “Fuck me, please, Koutarou.”

Bokuto keeps a hand on the small of Kuroo’s back to steady himself as he stands. He kisses Kuroo’s shoulder, runs a hand from Kuroo’s ribs along the curve of his waist to rest at his hip, and takes his cock in his other hand. He lines himself up, presses the head of his cock against Kuroo’s hole, and slowly pushes in.

Kuroo gasps as Bokuto sinks his full length into Kuroo. Bokuto gives a soft grunt and leans forward to press a kiss to Kuroo’s neck.

“Fuck, Tetsurou, you feel so good,” he mutters. “You’re so tight…”

“Fuck me,” Kuroo tells him. “You can move now. Just – fuck me, please…”

Bokuto pulls out a little, then rams back in. A tingle of pleasure hums along Kuroo’s spine. Bokuto’s strokes are long and slow at first, but they quickly gain speed until Bokuto is slamming into him hard and fast.

Bokuto whispers to Kuroo as he fucks him, his breath growing short with exertion. “Shit, Tetsurou, Tetsurou you feel so good, ngh – ahh, you’re so good…”

Bokuto leans forward, his chest pressing flush to Kuroo’s back. He rests his forearms against the shower wall, alongside Kuroo’s own. Kuroo glances over to his right. Something at Bokuto’s wrist catches Kuroo’s eye – the bracelet Kuroo made for him. Kuroo’s chest swells with fondness and he reaches over and puts his hand on top of Bokuto’s interlacing their fingers.

“You’re – ah – you’re wearing the bracelet,” Kuroo mutters.

Bokuto gives a light, breathless laugh. “Yeah,” he says, “of course I am. It was a present from _you_.”

Kuroo turns his head as far as he can and Bokuto leans forward, catching each other in a kiss. They kiss for a minute, but Kuroo’s neck is craned in an odd direction, so he soon pulls away.

“Ahh,” Kuroo gasps as he breaks away from the kiss, “touch me… I wanna…”

With his left hand, the one Kuroo isn’t holding, Bokuto reaches down and grips Kuroo’s cock. He pumps it hard and fast, in time with his own strokes. The water runs warm over both of their bodies, and Kuroo’s arousal builds low and steady in his hips.

“Kou – ahh – _Koutarou_ ,” he groans. “It feels…” He trails off, lost in his own arousal.

“Hmm?” Bokuto encourages, eager to hear Kuroo pick up where he left off.

“It feels _good_ ,” Kuroo says. “You feel so good – yeahhh, like that – it’s… harder. Fuck me _harder._ ”

Bokuto presses a kiss to the nape of Kuroo’s neck and quickens his pace. Bokuto pushes into him over and over again, drawing out Kuroo’s moans and gasps and panting words. It’s good, Kuroo thinks, better than he could even have imagined. Kuroo squeezes Bokuto’s hand tight and lets Bokuto fuck him. His knees feel weak and wobbly, but he’s braced steadily against the wall and against Bokuto, so he doesn’t worry about the possibility of collapse.

The water makes Bokuto’s hand slick around Kuroo’s cock. Bokuto’s hand pushes Kuroo’s foreskin back with each stroke, letting his fingers play over the sensitive head of Kuroo’s cock. Kuroo’s breathing shortens as he feels his climax coming on.

“Tetsurou,” Bokuto moans. “Are you – are you close…?”

“Yeah,” Kuroo says. “Yeah, I’m close.”

“Let’s come together…”

Kuroo nods. It isn’t going to be hard to get there, with Bokuto’s hand working his cock and Bokuto fucking him. Bokuto’s thrusting grows desperate, strokes shortening to quicken his pace.

“Tetsu, I’m gonna – ” Bokuto mutters, voice strained with urgency.

“Come inside me,” Kuroo says. “Ahh… make me come, too, Koutarou, I want it...”

Bokuto gives a low grunt, and Kuroo feels Bokuto’s cock jerk and feels warm semen fill him. Kuroo comes a second later, his cum spilling over Bokuto’s fingers where they continue to rub at the head of Kuroo’s cock. Kuroo hisses through his teeth with the overstimulation of being touched through his orgasm, and he bucks his hips back against Bokuto’s, half to escape the sensation and half to chase more.

The two of them stay like that for a moment, Bokuto still inside Kuroo and with his hand on Kuroo’s cock. As they catch their breath, Kuroo’s head starts to clear. He gives Bokuto’s hand a squeeze where he’s still holding it.

“That was…great,” Kuroo says. He wishes he had more words, or better words, but his mind is still half-full of the haze of his orgasm, and he can’t be bothered to think of something more clever.

“Yeah,” Bokuto sighs contentedly. “ _You_ were great. Let me just…” Bokuto takes his hand away from Kuroo’s cock and brings it to his own, steadying himself as he pulls out of Kuroo.

Kuroo feels almost empty without Bokuto inside him, but the fatigue in his limbs tells him he isn’t going to beg for Bokuto to put it back. Not tonight, at least. Kuroo squirms a little. There’s some of Bokuto’s cum sliding down the inside of his thigh, and it isn’t the world’s most pleasant sensation.

“Sorry,” Bokuto says, noting the way his cum drips out of Kuroo.

“Don’t be sorry,” Kuroo says. Bokuto spreads the cheeks of Kuroo’s ass once again, this time to help clean up a mess rather than to make one in the first place. “I asked you to. I wanted you to. It felt _good_.”

Bokuto helps clean the cum out of Kuroo, and they stand in the water for a few minutes afterwards, just kissing and holding each other close, skin slippery with water that is beginning to get cold. When they break apart, Kuroo rests his forehead against Bokuto’s, a soft and simple touch, but just as important as all the others they’ve shared tonight.

“We should _definitely_ do this again,” Bokuto says.

“I’m topping next time,” Kuroo says.

Bokuto grins. “Deal.”

***

Closing campfire comes all too soon. It’s the last night of camp – tomorrow morning all the campers will be going home with their parents, and the day after that all the counselors will return home as well.

Kuroo follows his campers, walking in pairs in a line led by Kai, into the amphitheater. They’re all allowed to sit wherever they want for closing campfire, and aren’t restricted to sitting with their groups as they had been for the opening one. Tora finds the rowdy, buzzcut-sporting kid from Sawamura’s Crows immediately, and darts off to find a seat next to him. Kenma, too, wants to sit with another group, favoring the noisy redhead Crow that he seems to have become close with over the other Cats.

“Do you want to invite Shouyou to sit over by us?” Kuroo asks Kenma before Shouyou pulls him gently away. Kenma has been his favorite camper, though he’s not supposed to have favorites, and he’d hoped Kenma would want to sit nearby him for closing campfire.

“Shouyou is afraid of you, Kuroo-san,” Kenma explains. Kuroo notices the red and orange and bright blue friendship bracelet on the wrist of the hand Shouyou uses to grab Kenma’s hand and pull him away, and can’t help but smile despite the slight insult of being told he’s scary.

There’s a hoot of laughter, and Kuroo turns around to find Bokuto approaching. “Baby bird leaving the nest, huh?” Bokuto says. He claps a hand on Kuroo’s shoulder bracingly, though the touch lingers longer than it ought to. “Or should I say kitten?”

“You shouldn’t say anything at all,” Kuroo murmurs.

“You are kinda scary, huh?” Bokuto says.

Kuroo puffs up, indignant. “I’m not scary! I’m perfectly kind and welcoming. I am a _delight_.”

Bokuto shrugs, a fond grin spreading on his face. “You wanna sit by me?” he asks. “Since Kenma rejected you and all.”

“He didn’t _reject_ me,” Kuroo says. Bokuto waves a dismissive hand.

They take their place on one of the rows of the amphitheater. The sun is beginning to set over the trees, tinging the sky pink and orange. The buzz of chatter and children’s laughter fills the amphitheater. The campfire crackles and pops in the center of the amphitheater, just far enough away that Kuroo and Bokuto only hear it every now and then when the sounds it makes are loud enough to echo off the trees.

Closing campfire is similar to opening campfire, but this time the campers get to sing songs. The songs start out raucous and fun, with whole groups of boys singing at full volume (and sometimes, a little off-key). As the night wears on and the sun sets to be replaced by the moon and stars, the songs turn quieter and slower. There are counselors who bring out guitars, and others who sing soft duets. They watch each song with increasing quietness, and begin to snap after each performance instead of clapping, to show a softer appreciation.

The campers are allowed to sing too, and Shouyou, next to Kenma, is raising his hand eagerly in the air, hopping in his seat. Nekomata waves him down, and to Kuroo’s surprise, Kenma lets himself be dragged down to the center of the amphitheater alongside Shouyou.

“Erm, this one is called ‘Linger,’” Shouyou says, his high, clear voice calling loud enough that the whole amphitheater can hear. “Ready, Kenma? One, two, three…”

On Shouyou’s count, the two of them begin a slow duet. Well, it’s not exactly a duet, since they’re both singing the same tune, but their two small voices are nice anyway. Shouyou’s voice is stronger and clearer than Kenma’s, but Kenma’s shy, soft voice is pleasant in its own way.

“ _Mmm, I wanna linger, mmm, a little longer, mmm, a little longer here with you…_ ”

Kuroo’s heart jumps when he feels Bokuto’s hand close over his own. Bokuto’s palm is warm, a welcome change from the coolness that’s settling into Kuroo’s fingers. Kuroo glances over at him, but doesn’t say anything. They shouldn’t even be holding hands in public like this anyway, where campers might see them, but Kuroo doesn’t fight it.

“ _Mmm, it’s such a perfect night, mmm, it doesn’t seem quite right, mmm, that it should be my last with you…_ ”

Kuroo sees Kenma’s eyes flicker up to look at him, and Kuroo almost pulls his hand away from Bokuto’s – but, well, he only has a couple more nights with Bokuto. He might as well make moments like this last.

The longer Kenma and Shouyou’s song goes on, the heavier Kuroo feels it. In his head he knows that his time at camp is almost up, that summer is over and soon he’ll be back in school and away from Bokuto, and it sets a hard pang around Kuroo’s heart. He wants all this to go on for a lot longer. Maybe not the long days corralling kids, or waking up early and getting to sleep late, or the oppressive heat of summer and the work of hiking, but the rest of it. Kuroo’s hand clenches Bokuto’s tight, not wanting to let go.

Kenma and Shouyou finish their song, and the amphitheater full of campers and counselors snaps their fingers and Kenma and Shouyou take their seats again.

The fire is mostly embers before Nekomata finally announces that it’s time for campfire to be over. The campers have a busy morning tomorrow, cleaning up their cabins and heading home, he says, and they ought to get to bed soon. There are disappointed groans from the campers, but everyone assembled in the amphitheater sings one last song all together.

Bokuto stands and drops Kuroo’s hand. He has campers to look after, and he gives Kuroo a quick smile before moving off to collect them. Kuroo has some business to take care of before he finds his campers – most of them are congregating around Kai already anyway. Kuroo scans the crowd for Sawamura and finds him swiftly.

“Sawamura,” Kuroo says, clapping a hand on Sawamura’s shoulder. “Thanks.”

Sawamura blinks. “For what?”

Kuroo looks around and lowers his voice. “For that tip about the showers,” he says. He and Bokuto have had sex nearly every night in the showers since their first experience with it, and Kuroo feels like he should buy Sawamura some flowers or something to thank him for his service.

“Oh,” Sawamura says. “Did you really…? With who?”

Somewhere behind Kuroo at a distance there’s the sound of Bokuto’s loud, whooping laughter echoing, and Kuroo can’t help but smile.

“ _Bokuto?_ ” Sawamura says. He gives a low whistle. “I should have guessed.”

Kuroo rolls his eyes.

“Hi, Kuroo,” Kenma says as he wanders up. Shouyou immediately latches onto Sawamura, hanging on his arm heavily. Sawamura drags Shouyou off towards the rest of the Crows, mock-complaining that Shouyou is too heavy, that he’s too big for this, and how did he get so big, they must have been feeding him too much at the dining lodge. Shouyou only laughs at Sawamura’s teasing and hangs on tighter.

“Hi, Kenma,” Kuroo says, turning to look down at Kenma where he looks up at Kuroo. “You did a really good job singing with Shouyou.”

“Th-thank you,” Kenma says. “Suga-san taught it to both of us.”

Kuroo reaches out and gently ruffles Kenma’s hair.

“Come on, kiddo,” he says. “Let’s get back to the cabins. Are you all packed up?”

“Mostly,” Kenma admits.

Kuroo guides Kenma back into the group with the rest of the Cats, and helps Kai herd them all back towards their cabins. Being back at the cabins means being back with Bokuto, and Kuroo wants all the time he can get.

***

The next morning finds Kuroo and Kai waiting with their campers in a meadow for the campers’ parents to show up. It’s been a busy morning already. They had their last meal in the dining lodge – waffles with strawberries and whipped cream and plenty of syrup – and spent the rest of the time packing and cleaning up their cabins and campground.

Other groups of campers are singing songs and playing games, but the Cats are already down three campers, meaning there’s only four left, and not many games can be played with this small a number. Shouhei had left with as few words as ever, giving a quiet wave as he walked off between his mother and father. Tora’s departure had been teary, though he firmly denied it, despite walking away after his mother with red-rimmed eyes and scrubbing tears away with the back of his hand. Lev had hugged Kuroo so tightly before leaving that Kuroo’s ribs hurt afterwards, and Kuroo made sure Lev didn’t head off with his mom without thoroughly ruffled hair.

There is a man approaching the remaining Cats who seems vaguely familiar. Glancing around at his campers, he tries to match them with this oncoming parent – Kuroo’s heart sinks when he realizes that this must be Kenma’s dad.

“Oh,” Kenma says, catching sight of his father.

Kenma’s dad steps up to the group and smiles at his son. “Ready to go?” he asks.

Kenma stands from the grass and wipes some loose blades of it from his pants. He turns towards Kuroo rather than towards his dad, his lower lip wobbling dangerously.

“I don’t want to go, Kuroo-san,” Kenma says. Big tears are welling in his little eyes, and Kuroo’s heart jerks painfully. “I miss you already.”

Kuroo bends and hugs Kenma tightly around the shoulders. “I miss you already too, Kenma. Have a great time at school for me, okay?”

Kenma nods, nose brushing against Kuroo’s shoulder. Kuroo squeezes just a little tighter for a moment, then releases Kenma altogether. Kenma turns and pads gently to his father’s side, and his dad thanks Kuroo and Kai before leading the way back to his car.

“Bye, Kuroo-san,” Kenma says, back over his shoulder as he follows his dad away from where Kuroo and the remaining campers are standing.

“Bye, Kenma,” Kuroo says with a small wave. Kuroo tries to ignore the burning of impending tears, and blinks to clear his eyes. Soon enough, Kenma has turned away to face forward as he walks, and Kuroo attempts to keep a frown of sadness from his face, for the sake of the remaining campers.

Within half an hour, the campers are all gone. Only the counselors are left standing in the meadow, quieter than the camp has been for an entire month.

“Well,” Akaashi says as he and Bokuto stroll up to Kai and Kuroo. “Should we get home?”

Home, meaning the ring of cabins in the forest that’s now empty of campers, and that will be empty of counselors too by tomorrow night. It certainly does feel like home. The notion of going back to his house in Tokyo seems downright absurd to Kuroo, though at least at home in the city he’ll have some escape from the mosquitoes.

“Yeah,” Kuroo says. “Home.”

The four of them trudge back in relative silence. Figuring it will be safe with no campers around, Bokuto takes Kuroo’s hand as they walk. It feels warm and comfortable and right, and Kuroo finds himself bitterly wishing it could have been like this for more of their time together, though he knows it never could have been.

The cabins are eerily quiet without the chatter and laughter of children. The counselors’ footsteps on the gravel of the clearing are too loud, and far too jarring. Kuroo misses his campers more than he can say, and knows that worse is yet to come tomorrow when he has to say goodbye to Kai and Akaashi and, worst of all, Bokuto.

Kuroo and Bokuto stand in the counselor’s cabin, looking around at it. Their beds are still made, their clothes still in piles or haphazardly thrown near their bags, all their towels still hung on the railing of the stairs leading up to the cabin’s door. Nothing here has changed, though nearly everything else has.

“I can’t believe I had to say goodbye to Kenma,” Kuroo says, trying and failing to mask the strangled sound of sadness in his voice.

Bokuto’s expression is sad, and Kuroo can’t help but lean into him, wrapping his arms around Bokuto’s shoulders and hugging him tight.

“It’s hard,” Bokuto says. “It’s really hard. I know.”

Kuroo sighs, breath huffing against Bokuto’s shoulder.

“I miss them already,” Kuroo says. It echoes Kenma’s sentiment from earlier, and the realization of that makes Kuroo’s heart sink even lower in his chest.

“We’ll just have to have fun tonight then,” Bokuto says, hands rubbing Kuroo’s back comfortingly. “To make it not hurt so much.”

Kuroo nods against him, squeezing tight. There are still things to be done, after all. The counselors have to clean the entire camp and pack all of their own things, and they have little time to rest. There will be a campfire tonight for just the counselors, and at least that’s something to look forward to. After a moment, Kuroo and Bokuto let go of each other, resolving to go about their duties in spite of the heaviness around their hearts.

It’s not until he’s lying in bed that night, curled up in his bunk with Bokuto’s arms around him in open defiance of the no-two-people-in-one bed rule just for this last night, that Kuroo realizes Kenma never returned the stuffed cat Kuroo had given him the first week of camp to help him with his homesickness. Kuroo supposes that his childhood toy is now in a place where it’s much more needed.

***

The next day at noon, Kuroo finds himself staring at his belongings where they sit on his bed, all his clothes and toiletries and books and the crafts he made with his campers over the weeks packed inside a large hiking pack, with his pillow and tightly-rolled sleeping bag strapped to it. With everything packed, things seem more final. The cabin doesn’t feel as much like home.

There’s the creaking of boards behind him, and Kuroo turns around to face Bokuto.

“Hi,” Kuroo says.

Bokuto gives a small smile, then looks at his feet. It takes him a while before he speaks.

“Hey, um, Tetsurou…?”

“Hmm?”

Bokuto shifts from one foot to the other and back again. His hands shift in his pockets, and he’s almost _blushing_. “Er – um – I, uh – take this,” Bokuto says. He holds out a small object, something like string…

Kuroo realizes what it is as he takes it between his fingers. It’s a friendship bracelet. It’s the same colors as the one Bokuto is wearing around his wrist, the one Kuroo gave him – black and white and yellow and red – though it sports a different design. Kuroo stares at it for a moment, dumbstruck.

The shock wears off just enough for Kuroo to actually _do_ something with the bracelet in his hand. He blinks back tears that have begun to form in his eyes and struggles to wrap the bracelet around his own wrist. He fumbles with it, but can’t quite get the ends to stay together well enough to tie them.

“L-let me,” Bokuto says, stepping forward towards Kuroo.

Kuroo lets Bokuto take the bracelet and his wrist, and watches Bokuto tie the bracelet, his fingers brushing Kuroo’s skin and maybe lingering a little longer than they needed to.

“There,” Bokuto says. He takes a step back from Kuroo and smiles, a little sadly. “Now we match.”

“Yeah,” Kuroo says. “We do.”

There’s a beat of silence, then Bokuto squeezes his eyes shut.

“I don’t want to go, Kuroo,” he says sadly. “I miss you already.”

Kuroo’s heart feels like it’s in a million pieces. Just yesterday his favorite camper had said those same words to him, and hearing them now from his lover feels like ripping open a half-healed wound and pouring salt in it.

“Bokuto,” Kuroo says. “Koutarou… I don’t – I don’t want to go either.”

Bokuto’s lower lip wobbles, and the same tears that had sprung up in Kenma’s eyes yesterday bloom in Bokuto’s eyes. “Why do we have to?”

“Summer is over,” Kuroo says, shrugging, unable to keep the heavy sadness out of his voice.

Bokuto surges forward and gathers Kuroo in his arms. He presses his face to Kuroo’s shoulder, giving a sniff to hold back the tears, though he’s trying in vain. Kuroo stares at the packed bag on Bokuto’s bunk for a moment before his vision clouds, and he tucks his face into Bokuto’s shoulder and lets himself cry. He doesn’t sob, but the tears feel hot on his cheeks before they soak into the fabric of Bokuto’s shirt.

“It’s okay,” Kuroo says after a minute, voice sounding a little strangled and odd. “You have my number. We’re just – just across Tokyo, okay? We’ll make it work.”

“We’d better,” Bokuto says. His voice is muffled in Kuroo’s shirt. “We’d better make it work. I really, really, _really_ like you, Tetsurou.”

“I really really really like you, too, Koutarou.”

Kuroo holds Bokuto as tight as he can, not paying heed to the heat of the day and the way the warmth of Bokuto’s body is making him sweat. These are their last few moments for who knows how long, after all. Kuroo thinks about the last time they had sex, and the way they had held each other through the night last night. He wonders when he’ll get the chance to do those things with Bokuto again.

“Tetsu,” Bokuto says. “I have to go. I’m getting a ride home with my mom, since I didn’t drive myself, and she’ll be here soon. I have to go.”

“Okay.”

“You’re driving yourself, right?”

“Yeah.”

Bokuto gives Kuroo a long, lingering kiss. Kuroo doesn’t want it to feel like goodbye, but it does. This is the last time for a while. Kuroo tries to tell himself that the next time will be soon, but there’s never any guarantees. Their summer is over. Kuroo wishes desperately that it wasn’t.

After a minute, Bokuto breaks away from Kuroo.

“Bye,” he says. He lifts the heavy bag from his bunk by the straps and hefts it onto his shoulder. “For now. Just for now, okay? I’ll see you soon.”

“Yeah,” Kuroo says. “See you soon.”

“Okay,” Bokuto says. “…Bye.”

“Bye.”

With that, Bokuto slips out of the cabin. Kuroo is left alone again, and he sits on the bunk next to his backpack for a long while, trying to wait out the ache in his heart.

It doesn’t go away. Not even after Kuroo has gathered his backpack of all his things onto his back and set out for the parking lot where his car waits, and not after Kuroo has loaded his pack into the back seat. In fact, the ache only gets worse as Kuroo turns his key in the ignition and starts his car, remembering that the last time he’d been here, it had been with Bokuto.

The trees zip past as Kuroo drives, and Kuroo feels vaguely as if he’s leaving one world and entering another, like he’s going into something unknown though he’s really just going back to what he’s always known. Things seem different now that he’s met Bokuto, and despite the pain of leaving him, however temporarily it might or might not be, Kuroo doesn’t think he regrets it in the slightest.

_We’ll make it work. We’ll make it work. We’ll make it work._

Kuroo looks at the forest their camp is nestled in in his rearview mirror and hopes they really can.

**Author's Note:**

> welllllllll it's not bokuto and kuroo's childhood, per se, but it's _some_ of the characters' childhoods, at least.  
>  this fic is honestly so special to me... 11 years of summer camp trained me well for this fic, it means a lot to me and i hope it's enjoyable.  
> for extra added pain, the song kenma and hinata sing at the end is "Linger," and you can listen to it [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q_oQK5iUeMY) (sorry for the not-so-good quality, [this version](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7NGhkNSyYxQ) has better quality but a couple of changed lyrics that make the song not so poignant to me). the full lyrics:  
>  _Mmm, I wanna linger,_  
>  _Mmm, a little longer,_  
>  _Mmm, a little longer here with you._
> 
>  
> 
> _Mmm, it's such a perfect night,_  
>  _Mmm, it doesn't seem quite right_  
>  _Mmm, that it should be my last with you._
> 
>  
> 
> _Mmm, and come September,_  
>  _Mmm, I will remember_  
>  _Mmm, our camping days and friendships true._
> 
>  
> 
> _Mmm, and as the years go by,_  
>  _Mmm, I'll think of you and sigh,_  
>  _Mmm, this is goodnight and not goodbye._
> 
>  
> 
> _Mmm, I wanna linger,_  
>  _Mmm, a little longer,_  
>  _Mmm, a little longer here with you._
> 
>  
> 
> for some extra extra pain, listen to "Summer, Man" by Taking Back Sunday.


End file.
